


Born to Run

by dollylux



Series: Born to Run [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, M/M, Polygamy, Rape Aftermath, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-04-05
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 90,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tramps like us, baby we were born to run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Fuck you!"

"Just fuckin' sit still and shut yer trap, you little queer. I don't wanna hear another goddamn peep out of you 'til we get to the station."

Fernando scowls to himself, his pretty little mouth in a tiny line. He sniffs loudly, curling down to wipe some of the white powder that was still under his nose.

"Peep."

The cop slams on the break so fast that Fernando goes flying into the floorboard, his legs in a ridiculous sprawl, feet against the window. He kicks at it hard while the cop is distracted by his yowling.

"You fuckin' asshole! You just broke my arms!"

"Get up, you little shit! No more disappearin' acts outta you. I'm _sick_ of your games. You think it's funny that you snorted coke offa the hood of my car? You think it's okay?! You think you're gonna get away with this?!"

"YOU DARED ME TO DO IT."

"What, you gotta do everything someone tells you to? You don't have a mind of your own? I'm _saving_ you, you little fucker. You'll be _thankin'_ me for this when you're outta rehab."

Fernando growls again, slamming his feet over and over against the window. They come to a rough stop in front of the police station and the cop is out of the car in a flash, yanking the back door open and ripping Fernando up out of the floorboard. He jerks against him and earns a shove into the door of the station.

"Why you got me double cuffed anyway?"

"You don't think I learned my fuckin' lesson last month when you shimmied out of those cuffs like a fuckin' whore in a miniskirt? I'll break your wrists 'f you try that again."

Fernando sighs as he's shoved against the wall inside the station and patted down roughly but thoroughly. He wriggles against his hands and wrinkles his nose.

"Ugh, you better not be getting hard over this. You better pay me first."

The cop sneers and grabs him by the scruff of his collar, spinning him around.

"Take off your jewelry, fag."

"You already know what I'm gonna say."

"I'll rip it out, don't try me, kid!"

"I just got my lip done last week! It'll grow up!"

"You don't need that shit in your face anyway. Gross little punk." Fernando tries to fight as the cop shoves a hand in his mouth and unscrews the stud in his lip, giving a sharp cry of pain when he yanks it out of the still tender wound. He bites down on his finger and the cop slaps his face.

"Shit! Police brutality!" He turns toward the innermost part of the station through the next set of double doors, his voice growing shrill in fake panic. "POLICE BRUTALITY."

"You're lucky I'm one-a the nice ones. The rest of 'em would beat yer fuckin' face in. Get that shit out of your cheeks! Now!"

"I'M CUFFED, GENIUS."

"I swear to Christ, I'm gonna--" The cop cuts himself off and growls up into Fernando's face, the disgust in it so strong that Fernando actually winces, long, skinny fingers tangling together at his back. He still fights as the cop shoves his meaty fingers into his mouth and unscrews his dimple piercings, collecting each piece of steel in his calloused palm. Fernando frowns at him fully now, licking angrily at the inside of his mouth.

"I ain't scared of you."

"Good. You haven't met Rodney yet." The cop goes about taking off the rest of Fernando's jewelry, pulling off chain after chain and spiked cuffs and worn pieces of leather until he looks rather naked and quite upset. The cop smiles, satisfied that he'd stripped him of his vanity. "You got anymore piercings I don't know about?"

Fernando absolutely grins.

"Why, you wanna see my hot young cock, officer?"

The cop steps up until he's face-to-face with Fernando and he shoves his finger hard against one of his freckled cheeks. He's shaking with hatred.

"I'm gonna put you in a cell with the guy that sends pretty boys like you to the infirmary. He'll rip your ass apart."

"Mm. Just my type."

The cop reaches up and grabs Fernando by his mohawk, pulling him down and shoving him through the final doors that led into the busy station. Everyday was busy in Camden, New Jersey.

"You sit the fuck down and lay low until Estelle can get to you. You'd better not move or you're gonna be our new punching bag." He throws Fernando down into a hard plastic chair, giving his thin chest a shove for emphasis before stalking away. Fernando slumps back in the chair, pouting to the fullest extent that his mouth can allow (which is quite a lot), his legs sprawled out. He taps his boots annoyingly on the dingy tile, staring down at them with blank eyes, watching his ratty laces tiptaptip on the floor, the soles of his shoes flap where they're falling apart. He glances around to make sure he's annoying at least _someone_ and when he looks to the right, his eyes catch and stick on a long, curled figure. He sits up immediately, his skin jittery with curiosity. When the boy looks over at him, he looks away immediately, his face falling dull with disinterest. He counts to ten under his breath and looks back over, startled when those huge dark eyes are still on him. He ruffles for the attention, faking a scowl as he sits up, throwing one ankle up onto his knee. The boy looks away politely and Fernando takes the chance to look him over.

He's almost as tall as Fernando himself, if not exactly the same height. He's all sinew and exaggerated features, eyes too big, nose too hooked, mouth too full. His hair is tortured with thick and thin dreaded strands, nested, gutter-brown dreadlocks tumbling down over his softly squared shoulders. Thin strips of fabric are tied into the jungle of his hair, some ended with dirty coins. He's dressed in layers upon layers, more layers than even Fernando is wearing, he notices in grudging respect, dark layers that are dusty with time, with stubborn wear, that are tied back together where they're ripped, that are covering maybe another shirt underneath that is too full of holes to wear alone. His feet are covered in chelsea boots, ones maybe worn by John Lennon himself once, if their appearance told their age correctly. He looked every bit the part of a tramp, of a gutter-gaunt gypsy, right down to the curled almonds of his eyes and the dusky honey of his skin and the belt of coins around his tapered waist. Fernando is unabashedly staring when those eyes find him again. He tries to push brightness into his own eyes to keep his gaze but the boy looks away almost shyly. Fernando watches him wrap an arm around a beat-up guitar case beside him and he makes his decision immediately.

"Psst."

He licks his lips, eyes darting back and forth furtively to make sure they aren't been watched. When the boy doesn't look over on his hissed command, he clears his throat obviously and tries again.

_"Psst._ "

Fernando watches his shoulders tense and then there are those eyes again. He locks his gaze and tries to nod him over.

"C'mere."

The gypsy looks behind him just like in the movies and then looks back at Fernando, his eyes wide with incredulity. He lifts his long, tanned hand from his guitar and touches his own chest with it.

"...Me?"

"Yes, you! Who the fuck else would I be--" Fernando stops, takes a deep breath, tries again. "Come here."

The boy pauses, clearly hesitant and going against his instincts but he scoots over the couple of seats separating him from Fernando. He looks over at him expectantly, eyebrows arched and expressive. He's almost pretty. Fernando thinks, anyway. But he's high, so he makes a mental note to consider it later.

"Help me get these cuffs off."

He turns his back to the boy and shows him the two pairs of handcuffs crossed and twisted over each other on his bony wrists. The boy's eyes widen and he gasps softly.

"Why are there two pairs?"

"Because. The fucker knows I can get out of just one. C'mon, hurry up. Rodney's on his way and he does _not_ like me."

"Who's Rodney?"

Fernando shakes his arms frantically and the boy reaches down and runs his fingers over Fernando's wrists and the cold steel of the cuffs. He glances up nervously at Fernando's back.

"Um. How?"

Fernando growls impatiently.

"You don't have a fuckin' bobby pin on you or somethin'?! Or a... I don't know. What ever it is you people carry around."

The boy's hands leave Fernando.

"'You people'?"

"You fuckin' gypsies!"

The boy's face lights up with a smile.

"You can tell I'm a gypsy?"

"Can't we talk about this later?! Oh. Shit." Fernando freezes when he sees Rodney's large frame lumbering down the hallway toward them. He wriggles and tries to shove his hands through the cuffs, whimpering when it only pushed the bones of his wrists apart. "Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit."

"What? What is it?" The boy looks up and spies the man immediately. Fernando can hear him suck in a sharp breath. "Is... is that Rodney?"

"On the count of three, you fuckin' book it to the door. Ready?"

"Wait, no! What?" He looks up at Fernando in terror, pushing back across the seats to reach for his guitar case like it's his child.

"One."

"Oh, god." The gypsy reaches down and laces his fingers through the handle, pressing the tips of his boots into the tile.

"Two."

"Maybe we can just talk to him. He doesn't seem _t--_ "

"Three."

"Oh, god." The gypsy launches himself at the door without thinking about it, his heart pounding in his chest as his shoulder impacts the door and it opens. Fernando jumps over the seats and, against all reason, toward the police desk. Estelle raises her eyebrows at him, her painted mouth opening to say something but when she sees the look in Fernando's eyes she stops.

"Oh, you better not. Ooooh, boy! You better not!"

Fernando leans down over the counter and snatches the bag of his jewelry from in front of her with his teeth, giving her a shit-eating grin around the plastic before he's gone, flying over the chairs again and bursting through both sets of double doors, grabbed almost immediately by the gypsy who is shaking hard. The sudden hands on him make Fernando jump and he screams so girlishly that he actually blushes, dropping the bag on the ground which Sergio picks up and shoves into his pocket.

"Goddamnit, don't fuckin' do that to me! Come on, hurry up!" Commotion suddenly sounds from inside the building and they bolt away from the station, the boy's guitar case swaying in his clenched fist. They head for dumpsters and a small gathering of scraggly trees, darting through them until they're convinced no one is behind them. They slow to a jog, completely out of breath by the time they reach the end and find themselves in the parkinglot of a shady gas station. They stop and try to catch their breath, tucking close against the grey cement building.

"Go... shit." Fernando pants, wheezes, coughs. Fuckin' cigarettes. "Go call someone. You know somebody that can get us outta here?"

The boy stares at him in disbelief.

"Well. I... yeah, I mean, I know someone who... but. He won't be happy about this. At all."

"Go call him, you can offer him sexual favors later."

"B... but--"

"HURRY UP. They probably have the entire squad out lookin' for our asses!"

The gypsy dashes toward the phone, still shaky as he digs around in his pockets, not coming up with any change at all.

"In my front right pocket. Got a few quarters. Hurry!"

He reaches down into Fernando's front pocket and wiggles his fingers until he can latch onto a few coins. He pulls them out and pushes them into the slot. The dialtone sounds in the his ear and he nervously dials a phone number. He closes his eyes when he hears a voice.

"...Iker?"

"Sergio? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm... I'm alright." He licks his lips, opening his eyes and finding Fernando's eyes on him, wide and hopeful like Sergio's reading lottery numbers. He closes his eyes again. "Listen, um. You know that gas station across from Wal-Mart? The one Cowboy Bob worked at last summer?"

"The one next to the police station?"

Sergio's stomach flips.

"...Yeah. Can you come pick me up? Please?"

Iker's pause is barely detectable.

"I'll be right there."

Sergio lets out a breath of relief and they both hang up without another word. Fernando nudges Sergio with his shoulder and nods toward the hidden side of the building. Sergio follows because he has no choice. They sink down to the concrete and let out simultaneous sighs. Fernando pushes his hips up, offering his pockets again.

"You wanna cigarette?"

Sergio just stares at him.

 

\--

 

Iker finds the gas station easily enough, his radio off, trying to keep the sentence he'd abandoned at home in his head so he could get right back into his paper when he returned. He rolls to a stop and peers around, worrying immediately when he doesn't see Sergio. He squints and wrinkles his nose to edge his glasses up higher on it. He jumps when the backdoor of his Volvo suddenly flies open and a dirty, unruly blonde mohawk appears and then immediately disappears down into the floorboard. Sergio follows, appearing as if by magic (like he usually does), carefully setting his guitar case in the seat and then sinking in, minding Fernando at his feet. He looks up at Iker and his eyes are absolutely massive with apology. Iker shoots up to crane around and look down in the floor of the backseat, gasping when he sees the blonde's wrists trapped in a knot of handcuffs. He looks back at Sergio in horror.

"Who the fuck is that?!"

Fernando shoves his head up and meets Iker face-to-face, undaunted by the fury in his eyes.

"FUCKIN' DRIVE."

Iker stammers and huffs and finally turns back around, shoving his car down into reverse and backing up, glaring into his rearview mirror.

"Son of a bitch motherfucker! Fucking _criminal_ in my car, shit, what the fuck have I gotten into? _What the fuck is going on!?"_

Fernando scowls up at Sergio.

"Is he gonna be this mouthy all the time?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sergio moves to the front seat after a lot of loud protests from Fernando but Sergio can be as stubborn as Fernando in his own ways. He had crawled over the console and curled up in the front seat and is now staring forlornly out the window, well aware that Iker is furious with him, so furious that he can't even look at him. Iker is gripping the steering wheel as he speeds through town on his way out of New Jersey, his head throbbing and his mind working in overtime as he tries to figure out what the fuck to do. Fernando finally, finally pipes up, too many minutes in silence and he's restless.

"So, what, are you two married or somethin'?"

They both turn at the same time and look at him in annoyance, neither of their expressions revealing anything. Sergio finally glances over at Iker as Iker faces the road again and he sighs, returning to his curled ball in the seat, temple resting against the glass of the window.

"No."

"Then why is nerd boy so pissed? Dude, I didn't fuck him or anything. Promise. We just barely met like--"

"Why is he with us, Sergio?"

"I... he..." Sergio stammers, looking at Fernando in the sideview mirror and getting raised eyebrows from him in return. He glares at him and Fernando glares back. "We were both at the station and we ran away."

Iker looks over at Sergio finally, his face startlingly blank.

"You ran away from the cops."

"Well... not... not _literally_. We were sitting in the station by ourselves."

"After being arrested."

"We weren't _booked_ ," Fernando offers helpfully, leaning up now to stick his face between Sergio and Iker's. Iker glares over at him and reaches over to shove at his skinny chest to push him into the backseat again. Fernando goes without a fight because he's just happy to have annoyed Iker at all. He scratches his nose just because he can, just because he'd maneuvered his cuffed hands from behind his back around to his front (one of his many talents) and his arms feel a thousand times better.

"Why were you in the station?" Iker looks at Sergio again, glancing him over to make sure he's not hurt though he does notice how pale he's looking, how tired his eyes, his voice. He changes his question. "Have you eaten?"

"I'm _starving._ "

Iker grits his teeth and narrows his eyes at Fernando in the rearview mirror.

"I didn't fuckin' ask you, kid. Did I?"

Fernando scowls to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and staying quiet though he is thinking very _loudly_ about how it had been three days since he'd eaten anything that wasn't bite-size, since he'd had anything clean to drink. Iker pointedly ignores him again.

"I'll be okay, Iker. I'm sorry about all of this. I hate bothering you about anything and... and I know you're writing your thesis and I'm sorry. I just didn't know what else to do."

Sergio sounds increasingly more upset the more he speaks, his voice trembling by the end and Iker's chest lifts and falls as he tries to stay neutral in front of this kid, tries to keep from reaching over and pulling Sergio to him and hugging him and apologizing for being so mean to him (he'd never raised his voice to Sergio, not ever). Iker chews hard on the inside of his cheeks as he cuts through two lanes of traffic to get off on the next exit which promised gas stations and fast food.

"Why did they pick you up?"

"Cause I was playing my guitar in the park again. This asshole cop has been watching me for the past week because I've been sleeping there and I keep moving because I don't want want him to find me. He finally caught me playing for money again and picked me up for vagrancy. He finally won." Sergio sighs and his shoulders draw in and he looks so tired suddenly, older than he had when Iker had seen him last. The days were always spaced far apart, too far for Iker's peace of mind.

Iker reaches over then and threads his fingers with Sergio's and gives his hand a squeeze, flicking his eyes over to him with a small, encouraging smile as he pulls into a gas station attached to a McDonald's. "It's okay."

"Ohmygod, you two make me fuckin' sick. Am I in some gay romance movie and I didn't know it? Hey, Star Trek, can you spot me five bucks? My stomach is turning into a cannibal."

Iker pulls in front of a gas pump and turns off his car, turning around in his seat and shooting Fernando his most lethal expression and he wasn't having to exaggerate at all.

"Listen to me, kid. I don't know you. I don't care to. You used Sergio to break out of jail and now you got me involved and I'm on the run from the fucking cops. I don't have my computer, my phone, any clothes. I hate you. Don't you ask me for any more fucking favors. You hear me?"

Fernando peers at him as if he's trying to understand what he's saying, _really_ understand.

"Your accent is real familiar. Where're you from?"

Iker has a fit then though it's a small one. He flings his seatbelt off and flies from the car, reaching into his backpocket and fishing out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, leaning in to hand it to Sergio.

"Ten in gas, the rest on food. Only the dollar menu. Okay?"

Sergio nods, folding the money like it's made of gold and tucking it down into one of his shirts. He looks over at Fernando in the backseat and Fernando gives him his best, most convincing smile. Sergio sighs.

"Come on."

 

\--

 

Ten minutes later, they emerge from the gas station-slash-McDonald's armed with bags of double cheeseburgers and french fries and huge Cokes (Iker had given in on that). Fernando is happily devouring a cheeseburger and almost trips over the parking block in front of him. Iker reaches over and grabs him by his collar to keep him from falling and therefore dropping one of the bags. Fernando looks up, smartass remark ready but he stops when he sees the look on Iker's face. He follows his gaze and freezes.

"Oh, shit."

Two police officers are circling Iker's car, peering into it, the radios on their belts hissing and talking. Fernando and Sergio both grow pale as they recognize one cop each as their most recent tormentor. Iker suddenly can't breathe and he takes a step back toward the gas station, almost tripping over the same damn parking bump. He shakes his head furiously, his voice a low hiss.

"No. No. I'm not going to fucking jail. I didn't fucking do anything. I have a _paper_ to write. I have to graduate. I have to get back to Princeton. I have plans. I have... I have--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, shut up so I can fuckin' think for a minute." Fernando ducks back into the shadows against the building, his eyes lighting up way too soon.

"Give the gypsy your keys. And distract 'em so we can get the car and we'll swing by and get you."

"What!? Are you fucking insane?! This isn't a movie! Life doesn't work like that!"

"Give him your keys!"

Iker looks over at Sergio who is terrified and who is already stepping toward Fernando because at least he had a plan and Iker groans, digging down into his pocket and shoving his keys into Sergio's hand. "You should be a fuckin' politician, kid."

"We can talk about my campaign later. Go!" Fernando lifts a foot and plants it on Iker's ass and shoves him toward the cops, letting out a wailing cry to get their attention before he pulls Sergio down to duck behind a pick-up truck next to them. The cops turn immediately to look at Iker who gets wide-eyed and ghostly pale. They eye him suspiciously.

"There a problem, son?"

"I... T-they... They stole my wallet!"

The cops immediately look interested and they look both ways before jogging across the parkinglot toward him, their faces grave.

"Who did? What did they look like?"

Iker is all jittery now, his jaw moving as he tries to speak but he really has no idea what the fuck he's saying.

" _They stole my wallet!_ I had my license in there! My credit cards, my... my library card! Concert stubs, movie stubs." He gasps suddenly, his eyes growing so wide that even the cops get antsy. " _My movie ticket stub from my first date!"_

Fernando's cop moves in closer to Iker's face and Iker can see Fernando and Sergio scamper across the parkinglot in their crouched dashes and he's working on pure terror now.

"Look, son, you're gonna have to calm down or we can't help you. There are some dangerous criminals on the loose and we have reason to believe that they are in this vicinity. They are highly erratic and easily irritable and we need to find them as soon as possible. Now. Did you say they were inside?"

"Yes! They're inside! They were trying to sell cigarettes to kids!"

The cops gape at him and then at each other. They jump to life and jog toward the gas station, stumbling over each other to pull the door open. Iker looks over and sees his car suddenly roar to life, headlights flashing on as it lurches toward him and pulls to a squealing stop in front of him. Iker runs to the car and rips the back door open, diving in and on top of bags of food (goddamnit!) and before he can even pull the door closed Sergio is peeling out of the parkinglot, tires screeching dramatically. Fernando turns around in his seat, cheeks flushed bright pink and he grins as the cops realize they've been fucked with and jog toward their squad car. He lets out a yelp of victory and leans over to plant a sloppy kiss on Sergio's cheek which flusters Sergio immediately. His hands are deathly tight on the steering wheel.

"Iker. As soon as we can, um... can you drive? Please? I feel like I'm going to faint."

"Get uptown, gyp. I know a guy on Market who can get these fuckin' cuffs offa me."

Sergio gives a shaky nod and obsessively checks the rearview mirror, his chest rising and falling steadily. Fernando gives Iker a beaming grin.

"Hand me a cheeseburger?"

 

\--

 

"Ah. Thank fuck." Fernando pulls his arms apart gratefully and stretches them up and then to the sides, looking down at the cuffs that are still clinking around his wrists but that are separated, at least.

"I can take 'em off completely, Fer. You sure you wanna leave them on?" Drake hops up on the counter of his workstation to sit next to Fernando and lights up a cigarette.

"Yeah, they look kinda badass. Plus they'd be a good weapon." He takes the offered cigarette from Drake and sucks a long drag, exhaling through his nose and lifting his arms to show Sergio and Iker who look uncomfortable to put it mildly.

"Nice. Classy. Look, we seriously need to get out of town before night falls. I need to get up to New York City by tomorrow."

Fernando rolls his eyes at Drake for how obviously uptight and humorless Iker is and he hops down from the counter and lands in front of Sergio, giving him a full-toothed grin.

"This is the first time you've seen me with my arms apart. Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Sergio gives him a wry smile and shakes his head, shouldering gently past Fernando to head toward the door. Fernando follows him without a goodbye to Drake and Iker shuffles along behind them grudgingly. Fernando wraps an arm around Sergio's shoulders and Iker frowns.

"Now I can hit on you properly."

Sergio ducks out from under his arm and opens the passenger side door of Iker's car. Iker glares at Fernando as he opens his own door.

"Obviously not."

Fernando scowls at them both and pulls the door shut hard once he's inside the car, arms folding over his chest like he's a kid and he's just been grounded. They drive away in silence.

 

\--

 

They make it up 95 past Trenton around midnight and Iker's eyes are starting to droop. Sergio asks him quietly if he's tired and Iker pulls off the road without a word, tucking the car behind an abandoned service station in an even more abandoned town and kills the engine. Fernando is snoring loudly in the back, his feet propped up on the window, his jacket off and covering him like a tiny blanket. They turn around and look at him and both shake their heads, smiles hinting on their faces but they're mostly grim. They search each other's eyes for a long moment before wordlessly moving into action, Iker pushing his seat back and Sergio climbing over the console to straddle him, knees tucking in on either side of Iker's body, arms slipping up around his neck as he curls down against him. Iker wraps his arms around Sergio's back, hugging him tightly for a long moment before he starts to pet him slowly, both of them relaxing bit by bit until they both sigh.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I hadn't heard from you in a month or so."

"It's been getting warmer out so sleeping outside isn't bad at all. It hasn't been so bad."

Iker holds him tighter, resting his chin on Sergio's shoulder and closing his eyes. Sergio's fingers trickle up and down the back of his neck and he feels unnaturally calmed by it.

"I won't let anything happen to you. You believe me, right?"

Sergio nods immediately, yes, yes, I know. Iker kisses his cheek and Sergio holds onto him even tighter, his own eyes slipping closed. They fall asleep almost immediately, too tired to even say goodnight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, gypsy?"

Sergio looks back at Fernando where he's still sprawled out in the backseat and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Come lay with me? I'm fuckin' bored."

"And me laying with you will make you not bored?"

Fernando's grin is absolutely feline.

"If I'm lucky."

Sergio smirks and looks over at Iker who is driving and thoroughly unamused. His eyes are so penetrating that Iker has to look over at him and he shrugs when he does.

"Do what you want, Serg. Just be careful you don't catch something."

Fernando shoves his foot into the back of Iker's seat and Iker reaches around to grab at it, at anything on the scrawny rat of a boy. He growls back at him menacingly, eyes glued to the rearview.

"Do that again and see what happens."

Sergio unbuckles his seatbelt and starts to climb over the console to distract them both, trying to make himself as small as he can when he crawls into the backseat, looking down at Fernando who hasn't moved from his sprawl, who is grinning up at him like he's won something. Sergio worms his butt into a small corner on one end of the long seat.

"Where do you want me to lay?"

"We're both malnourished, we can make this work."

Fernando turns on his side and squishes back against the seat, leaving the frontmost part of it surprisingly empty and pretty much enough space for Sergio. He lies down hesitantly, a little surprised by how close their faces are when he finally settles in. Fernando looks almost nervous now and he proves it when he shoves his wadded-up jacket under Sergio's head.

"Here. You can have my pillow."

Sergio rests his head on the jacket and finds it a little uncomfortable but doesn't say anything. He gives Fernando a small smile in thanks and wraps an arm around it for lack of anywhere else to put said arm. Iker can't see either of them and it just makes him frown more. He turns up the stereo, making Bob Dylan tangle up in blue a little more loudly. Fernando keeps his eyes on Sergio, studying him in an amazing amount of quiet.

"Hi."

Sergio grins almost shyly, has to take his eyes off of Fernando. He stares at the stitching of the seat behind him instead.

"Hi."

"You know what I thought when I first saw you?"

Sergio shakes his head as best as he can, fingers pulling nervously at the leather on the jacket.

"That you were the hottest boy I've ever seen outside of porn."

Iker snorts for that, pretending to try and cover it up with a loud cough. Fernando sucks in a fast, nervous breath and glares up toward him. He kicks the back of the seat again but not so hard this time. Iker doesn't say anything.

"Um. Thanks?"

"And you know what else?"

"...Probably not."

"That I wouldn't even charge to give you a blow job."

"Wait, wait, wait." Iker laughs again and turns down the stereo. Fernando pushes himself up onto his elbow to rest his cheek against his palm, frowning fully. "People pay you to put that mouth on their dick?"

"They usually pay me more than we agree on, it's so good." Fernando looks defiant, annoyed. Defensive. Sergio feels bad for him immediately.

"Right."

"So." Sergio interrupts before Fernando can reply and a full-blown fight starts. "Where are you from?"

"Georgia." Fernando smiles and drops himself to lay back down face level with Sergio again. He lets his arm fall and it lands on the top of Sergio's head and he lazily pushes his fingers into it as best as he can, scratching at Sergio's scalp and Sergio's eyes immediately droop. "I'm a Georgia peach."

"Whereabouts in Georgia?" Iker's voice sounds stiff.

"Blairsville." Fernando can see Iker's hands tighten on the steering wheel but he ignores him and turns his attention back to Sergio. "So, are you a real gypsy?"

"Roma," Sergio corrects, squirming until he can lay on his back in the seat, staring up at the ceiling. Fernando is plenty squished now but he doesn't say anything.

"You're Italian?"

"No, I'm Romani, a... gypsy, I guess you'd say. My mother is a full-blooded Rom. She came over from Spain when she was a teenager. She was in a musical group with her friends and they traveled all over the country performing. She met my father in Missouri at a county fair and he proposed to her because she was so beautiful and she said yes."

Fernando actually looks impressed.

"Is she as smokin' as you?"

Sergio grins, secretly flattered. "She's beautiful. She's the most beautiful woman in the world."

"So why are you homeless? If I had a hot mom, I'd be home all the time."

Sergio shoves him and Fernando gives a small squeak but grins right back at him.

"Ever since I was little I've had this... desire to be on the road, to always be traveling, learning, meeting new people. The night of my fifteenth birthday, I packed a bag and tried to sneak out. She was waiting for me outside and gave me money and a brand new guitar and told me she loved me. That was the last time I saw her." Sergio sounds far away now, his eyes unfocused, voice vague. Fernando feels a twist in his chest.

"How long ago was that?"

"A year and a half ago."

"Are you happy?"

Sergio pauses then, actually thinking about it. He looks over at Fernando and searches his eyes and they both fall silent for several moments.

"I am. I get lonely sometimes and... it's not so easy all the time. But I'm free, I feel free. My spirit feels light for the first time in my life."

"He has an old soul." Iker says this almost quietly and Fernando would usually make fun of such a statement but it sounded true the second he heard it so he gives a feeble nod, his eyes not leaving Sergio.

"You're like magic. Aren't you?" He says this more to himself than to Sergio and Sergio knows it so he doesn't answer. Fernando trails his fingers down over the dreadlocks tangled in Sergio's hair, the calloused tips of them catching on one of the strips of fabric braided in. "What are these for?"

"They're from the clothes of people I've met and want to remember."

"Will you take something from me? When I leave?"

Sergio smiles softly and looks back up at the ceiling of the car. Fernando can't take his eyes off him.

"Maybe."

Fernando knows that's as good of an answer as he's going to get and so he accepts it. He touches every bit of fabric he can reach, every small, tinkling coin, every strand of hair. Sergio's eyes fall closed and eventually Iker turns the stereo back up. Fernando carefully pushes his cheek in on the very edge of the jacket pillow and breathes softly so as not to disturb Sergio and they doze off, one touched and one humbled.

 

\--

 

Sergio wakes up with one of Fernando's arms around his waist and one of his tanned, freckled cheeks against his chest. He glances up at Iker who is still driving, who has one elbow crooked and resting in the open window, fingers tangled in his hair and scratching absently. He strains up with one hand to rest it on Iker's shoulder and Iker jerks, startled. He turns to meet Sergio's eyes and relaxes as soon as he sees him, sliding a hand up to rest on his own shoulder and over Sergio's fingers.

"Sleep well?"

"You're tired, Iker. You wanna stop and maybe get something to eat?"

"Are you hungry, Sergio?"

"Don't worry about me, I want you to eat."

Iker turns his head again, straining to keep his eyes on the road as he presses a kiss to the top of Sergio's fingers.

"We'll stop."

Fernando grunts in his sleep, tightening his arm around Sergio and pushing his face in harder against his chest. Iker rolls his eyes to himself and smirks out at the road.

"Got a new pet, Sese?"

Sergio groans but he's grinning.

"Oh, shut up."

"Stop talkin' shit about me, Screech, I'm right here." Fernando opens his eyes and gives a unnecessarily loud yawn, stretching his long, skinny body as best as he can in the trap of the seat.

" _Screech?_ "

"Don't act like you never watched _Saved by the Bell._ All dorks watched _Saved by the Bell._ "

"Go back to sleep. It was so much better when you were just snoring."

"Nah, I'm rested now. Magic over here is a good pillow." Fernando grins at Sergio as he pushes himself to sit up. Sergio follows and wipes at his eyes as he stretches a little. "So when are we eatin' again?"

"Oh, awesome! Did you find some money?!" Iker's voice is dripping with sarcasm and his eyes meet Fernando's in the rearview mirror. They smirk at each other and Fernando flips him off, all dramatic and slow.

"I can get some money. Get me to a truckstop. We'll eat like kings."

"What are you gonna do, find a caravan of truckers and give 'em head in their cabins?"

Fernando's face is blank.

"Yeah."

Iker actually looks surprised.

"Oh."

Fernando points to a sign that they're passing rapidly.

"See, truckstop in five miles."

Iker doesn't say anything back to him, just turns his stereo back up, still his Bobby Dylan.

"This ain't music." Fernando grins over at Sergio, winking as if to say 'watch, that'll get him riled up'.

Iker growls and grumbles to himself and Fernando cackles evilly. Sergio shakes his head and leans up to kiss Iker's cheek which actually makes Iker smile. Fernando tugs on Sergio's sleeve almost childishly.

"Hey, you still got that bag I dropped outside the station? The little one with all my shit in it?"

"Oh, um." Sergio digs around in the pockets in all the layers he's wearing, finally producing the clear bag and holding it up to Fernando who snatches it and tears it open, pulling out the leather cuffs first and returning them to his wrists, buckling them under the two handcuffs on each. He plunks the three studs with silver balls on the ends into Sergio's palm, scooting closer to him.

"Put these back in my face? My hands shake too bad, I can't ever get them back in."

Sergio looks down at his hand uncertainly and then back up at Fernando, peering at him as if to try and figure out where they go. Fernando pushes his tongue around on the inside of his mouth and pushes up against each one: one in each cheek where his dimples flash easily and then one on the left side of his top lip. Sergio look back down at his hand.

"How do they work?"

"They just unscrew. It's not hard, promise."

"...Is it gonna hurt you?"

"Just the fresh one, it won't be too bad though. C'mon, I need to get them in before we get to the stop. They love punkass twinks suckin' their little dicks."

Sergio wrinkles his nose in disgust at the thought of sucking a smelly trucker's dick as he unscrews the ball from one of the studs, looking back up at Fernando who opens his mouth obediently.

"My... my hands are dirty."

"Trust me, Magic. I've had dirtier things than your hands in my mouth."

Sergio pulls another face as he timidly eases his fingers into Fernando's mouth, pushing the little bar around inside his cheek until he can see it protruding on the outside. Fernando looks unaffected but keeps his eyes on Sergio's and it all feels strangely intimate. Sergio actually blushes when he pushes the bar through the hole in Fernando's cheek and Fernando does his best not to grin and mess it up. Sergio screws the ball on the bar carefully and Fernando gives a content sigh to have it back. Sergio does the same with the left side of his cheek, making sure the ball is screwed in tight and then he prepares the third one, nervous now.

"So the one above your lip is the fresh one. Right?"

"Yeah, I hope to fuck it hasn't grown up yet. Let's try though."

"What if I hurt you?"

Fernando gives a quick, dismissive shake of his head.

"It's cool. You won't."

"But what--"

"I like pain, kid! It's okay. Just do it." Fernando opens his mouth again and makes his lips loose so that Sergio can ease his fingers up between his mouth and his gums to guide the bar against the last hole. Fernando tenses when Sergio tries to push it in and it won't go as easily at the others. Sergio makes a panicked sound and starts shaking his head, about to abandon the whole thing before Fernando urges him on with a determined little grunt. Sergio gives one final shove and the bar breaks through skin and Fernando kicks hard at Iker's seat in blatant pain.

"Stop doin' that!"

"Fruck roo!"

"Stop, I'm almost done." Sergio's hands shake a little as he screws the ball in and he's finally done. He tries to pull his fingers out of Fernando's mouth but Fernando catches hold of his wrist, worming his fingers down under the piles of bracelets and fabric on Sergio's wrist to feel his pulsepoint as he starts to suck on his fingers, forcing Sergio's eyes to stay on his own. Sergio's cheeks flush as he feels Fernando's tongue swirl and lap at his fingers, over his knuckles, tickling at the underside of them. He licks his lips.

"What are you doing?"

"Mm." Fernando pulls Sergio's fingers from his mouth and licks at them outside now, flicking at the tapered tips of them. His eyes flash in what can only be called seduction. "Practicing."

"Well, no more time to practice, brat. We're here." Iker pulls into the truckstop that is lit-up brightly in the early evening, the little attached diner full of truckers. They milled around outside of it as well, smoking and chatting and walking off the stiffness of driving a truck for a living. Fernando gives a world-weary sigh and reaches for the door handle.

"Well. I'll be right back."

Sergio reaches out and rests an unsure hand on his arm. "Do you have to do this? I don't have to eat until we get to New York. I really don't."

Fernando turns to look at him and flashes him a bright smile. He leans in and kisses Sergio full on the lips, keeping him from pulling away with the sheer skill of his mouth. He breaks away and licks his lips, the smile returning.

"You're gonna eat anything you want."

He climbs out of the car and shuts the door too hard for Iker's liking before he shuffles across the parkinglot and into a small group of truckers, every single one of them turning toward him interestedly. Sergio sits back and licks his lips again, his mind spinning a little. He frowns as he watches him and Iker turns the car off, stretching as best as he can in his seat and closing his eyes to rest them.

"I hope he hurries. I'm starving."

Sergio frowns even more and his heart races as the whole lot of them follow Fernando to what he can only assume is the bathroom. He lifts his hand and rests it on the handle, about to open it and follow him and pull him back to the car but Iker's voice startles him.

"Don't. He'll be fine."

Sergio's frown deepens. He's not convinced.

 

\--

 

Fernando reappears about twenty minutes later with a little less spring in his step than when he left. He ducks into the car again and settles in next to Sergio, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of twenty dollar bills and pressing them into Sergio's warm palm. Sergio stares down at it in amazement.

"How much is this?"

"Two hundred."

"How much did you charge?"

"Twenty bucks each."

He looks up at Fernando and his swollen mouth, his eyes that look a little more tired, a little less bright. He straightens the money into a neat pile and folds it up carefully and returns it to Fernando. He leans forward and presses a soft, earnest kiss to Fernando's cheek. Fernando throws an arm around Sergio's shoulders and tugs him closer, smile returning seamlessly.

"Let's live it up, boys. I'm thinking I-HOP."

Iker rolls his eyes as he pulls back out onto the road that will take them eventually to a small town and a smatter of restaurants.

"I'm thinking a steakhouse."

"No. I want I-HOP." Sergio sounds firm and Iker can't hide the surprise from his face but thankfully he's facing away from them both. He glances up to see them sitting close but staring out opposite windows. He keeps his sigh to himself.

"Alright, Sese. I-HOP it is."

 

[chapter four.](http://melungeoned.livejournal.com/23910.html)


	4. Chapter 4

"And how do you want your steak cooked?"

Fernando squirms in his seat, making some of the coins on Sergio's person tinkle softly. Iker sighs in false impatience and keeps his eyes on his own menu. He hadn't eaten at I-Hop in years.

"Rare."

Iker looks up at Fernando in horror.

" _Rare?!_ "

Fernando grins, his whole face lighting up. The waitress isn't impressed with either of them and taps the end of her pen on her pad of paper.

"Yeah, rare. Just walk it through a warm room."

"Jesus christ." Iker shakes his head and sighs again, squinting at the menu again. Fuckin' kid.

"And your eggs?"

"Over easy."

"And you?" She raises her eyebrows at Sergio in only mild annoyance. Sergio offers her a quiet smile and her mouth isn't quite as tense suddenly.

"Can I just have the Silver Five from the kids' menu?"

"Are you under twelve?"

"Oh. No." Sergio looks back at the menu again, frowning this time. Fernando nudges him.

"Get something from the real menu! I'm payin', I don't mind!"

"But it's your money, I don't want to spend it." Sergio says this quietly and he's getting a little nervous now just like he always has in places that are enclosed and rather quiet, especially when everyone is staring at him. Iker grins at him to try and calm him.

"Funny, you never mind spending _my_ money."

Sergio looks up at Iker with a pained, sorrowful expression and Iker's face immediately falls. He reaches over for Sergio's hand then, shaking his head quickly back and forth.

"I was just teasing you, Serg, I promise."

"I'm sorry, Iker. I just..." Sergio shakes his head, closing his menu, fingers shaking just a little. "I'm sorry."

"Should I come back?" The waitress takes a step back from the table, pen returning to her pocket."

"No, no, give him the breakfast sampler with scrambled eggs and... blueberry pancakes. And chocolate milk." Fernando glares at her but he sounds decisive enough that she takes her pen back out and scratches Sergio's order onto her pad. Iker brings Sergio's hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, uncaring whose time he's taking up because he has to get that look out of Sergio's eyes. She clears her throat and he frowns fully at her, his look nothing but haughty and condescending.

"Country omelette with salsa. Black coffee."

She stalks off after she writes that down and Fernando flips her off, throwing his legs up under him on the bench.

"Fuckin' bitch. What the fuck better does she have to do? Feed her three screamin' kids hiding out in the kitchen? Twat." He snorts and sits back in his seat, finally looking over at Iker and Sergio who are still quiet and Iker is absolutely imploring. He clenches his jaw. "Okay, you two figure this out because I'm not going to have one of those quiet daddy-hit-mommy dinners."

Sergio's eyes are moons when he looks over at him.

"One of what?"

Fernando beams at him and reaches up with both hands to hold his face so he can kiss his mouth hard and three times. Sergio doesn't react quickly enough to pull back and so his eyes just look even bigger. Fernando cackles.

"God, you're so much fun to mess with. I would love to have seen your face the first time you got fucked."

Iker kicks him hard under the table.

"We're in _public_ , for christ's sake!"

"There ain't nobody in here! And besides, if parents have their kids out this late then they deserve to hear about gay anal sex." He turns to look at a little boy sitting nearby and grins at him. "Ain't that right, Skip?"

Iker actually laughs for that but hides it behind a tightly clenched hand to his mouth and Sergio chews on the inside of his mouth to keep from reacting. Fernando sighs, bored again already. He finally looks up at Iker after he's unwrapped his silverware and tucked his napkin into his shirt like it's a linen and he's at a formal dinner. Iker just stares at him.

"So, nerd boy, what's your story? I know your girlfriend over here knows it but humor me."

"I'm not his gir--"

"I know, I know, you guys aren't dating, blah blah blah. Come on, out with it." Fernando smiles over at Sergio and wraps an arm around him to make up for his snappy words. Iker's stare is unreadable.

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you wanna share, sir. I'm just tryin' to be chatty."

"I go to Camden County College right now because..." Iker sighs and it sounds pained now. He reaches for the wrapper that went around Fernando's silverware and starts to fold it up in perfectly even sections. "Because I got kicked out of Princeton a year ago."

"Why?"

"My GPA dropped below the allowed grade for one of my scholarships. The big one. And I couldn't pay my tuition because it's fucking Princeton and I don't want to take out loans because I don't want to owe _anyone_ money, so."

"What are you going to school for?"

"Economics."

Fernando snorts.

"Ha! Ironic, innit?"

Iker laughs and shakes his head with a smile as the waitress brings their drinks over and sets them down on the table. Sergio stares down at his chocolate milk and doesn't remember ordering it.

"So why the fuck did you end up in Camden? It has the highest crime rate in the country, you know." Fernando sounds sage and it's ridiculous coming from his mouth. He plunks his straw down in his Coke but leans over to take a sneak sip of Sergio's milk before returning to his own drink. Sergio grins and nudges him.

"No, it's the _second_ highest crime rate. And I live one block away from Walt Whitman's house. How many people can say that?"

Fernando stares at him blankly.

"No, seriously, why the fuck do you live in Camden?"

"I wanted to... help out the inner city kids while I was going to school. Feel like I was doing something important since I'm stuck going to a community college."

"Wait. You seriously help out inner city kids?"

"Yeah. I volunteer at after-school programs and at the Y."

"Are we being filmed or something?" Fernando looks around exaggeratively, pretending to duck away from supposed cameras. Iker looks haughty again. Fernando laughs. "It's just that you sound like one of those do-gooder guys in movies that ends up with the hot girl." He glances over at Sergio in slow realization. "Dude. He's like the perfect guy. That gets you off so much, doesn't it?"

Sergio opens and closes his mouth several times but he's saved by their mean waitress plopping large plates of food down in front of them. Fernando forgets any and everything else and reaches for his already unwrapped fork, stabbing it into the eggs before the plate is even all the way down on the table. He starts cutting into his steak as soon as he can. Sergio digs a blueberry out of the top pancake and eats it happily. He'd forgotten how much he loves blueberries. Iker pours his salsa out over his omelette and starts to cut it all up carefully and cleanly. Both he and Sergio prepare their plates at a rather normal pace for several quiet moments before they both slowly glance over at Fernando and the swift motions he's making. Iker looks down at Fernando's plate and he looks absolutely horrified at the chunks of light brown and bright pink meat mixing with the now blood-pinked runny egg yolks on Fernando's plate, all of it blending together in a nightmarish pile.

"Fucking hell, kid. That looks like... like..."

"An abortion on a plate."

Iker glances over at Sergio in surprise at the accuracy and... disgusting mental image but he nods. Fernando cackles again and shovels a huge forkful into his mouth.

"Delicious babies!"

Iker and Sergio snort and snicker in laughter and the family next to them recoil in horror. None of the three boys care anymore.

Fernando reaches over and takes a corner of Sergio's pancakes and eats it right along with his steak and eggs. Sergio watches him and waits until he swallows before he speaks.

"Do you want some of my pancakes?"

Fernando grins and it's so damn charming that Sergio can't help but smile back.

"I'll put anything in me that you wanna give me."

"Oh, dear god." Iker groans and rests his elbow on the table so he can cover his eyes with his hand. Sergio braves on and scoots his plate over between he and Fernando, nodding toward it.

"You can have them."

Fernando glances up at him unsurely, fork poised.

"Wait, you sure?"

Sergio nods, picking up a piece of bacon and eating it slowly, savoring. Fernando watches it and realizes he wants bacon too and then he wonders if maybe just seeing it go into Sergio's pretty mouth makes it immediately appetizing. He reaches down and tugs up his own shirt, revealing the side of his waist, ribs visible through skin but he looks softly curved still, somehow but silken against all odds. When he meets Sergio's eyes he's pretty serious.

"Wanna touch me? In exchange?"

Sergio licks his lips clean of bacon grease and raises his eyebrows, letting his eyes flick down to Fernando's pale skin. Iker is watching now too, with interest.

"Touch you?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sexy. It's a pretty even exchange. Here." He wipes his hand on his pants before reaching for Sergio's, bringing it up to rest on his waist, pushing Sergio's fingers to press into his skin. Sergio watches his fingers sink into Fernando's skin and he's pleased that it's as soft as it looks. Fernando drops his hand away and Sergio trails his hand up his side, bumping over ribs and getting perilously close to where he knows his nipple is hidden under his t-shirt. Fernando's eyes are trained on his. "More?"

Sergio's cheeks flush a little then and he removes his hand as if he's been burned and he picks up his fork to busy himself. He cuts into his eggs and eats them heartily. Fernando drops his shirt with a grin and grabs the plate of pancakes, folding one up with his fork and biting almost half of it into his mouth. Iker turns his attention back to his food, trying to decide if intrigued is maybe his word of the day.

 

\--

 

They find the Wal-Mart of the town and stop the car there for the night, deciding that since Wal-Marts are always open, they'll have less of a chance of having a cop knock on their window at four in the morning. Iker kills the engine and pushes his seat back immediately, dropping it to lay all the way back and crowding against Fernando's legs. Fernando is laying fat and happy in the back of the car, announcing the fullness of his tummy with a loud, long burp. Iker makes a tiny annoyed face as he pulls his shirt off over his head and wads it up to rest his head on. Sergio looks over at him from the passenger's seat and his heart speeds up a little. He starts to remove a few of his layers one at a time, starting with loud jewelry and working his way down until he's left in a single shirt and his ratty pants. Fernando could care less about any of it and he has to admit this damn music that Iker is listening to puts him right to sleep. He rests the back of his hand over his eyes and, with one last contented sigh, falls immediately to sleep.

Iker and Sergio sit in perfect silence for about ten minutes, only the soft croon of the radio and the breeze blowing past them through the two open windows making any sound. Sergio rests his arm against the window, elbow sticking outside the car, and he curls his head down against it, gazing over at Iker from his side of the car. Iker can see Sergio's eyes glinting in the darkness, can see how bare he looks (and god, he loves it when Sergio is stripped down, even just a little). He reaches over and curls a finger to trail his knuckle up Sergio's newly bare arm and Sergio shivers, goosebumps tickling against Iker's finger.

"Take your shirt off. Please."

Sergio reaches down for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up until the shirt is over his head and he discards it in the floorboard with the rest of his belongings. Iker watches him quietly and he sighs when Sergio turns back to him. He takes the same crooked finger and runs the back of it up Sergio's arm and shoulder and then down over his already hard nipple, both of them drawing a sharp breath for it. Sergio's eyes are burning on him and though he can't see it, he can feel it.

"Pants, too."

Sergio toes off his shoes and his heart is beating like a drum in his ears. He pushes his pants down and off along with his underwear and he's blushing so much now, so exposed in a lit parkinglot, with open windows. He watches hungrily as Iker unbuttons his own pants and pushes them down his hips. He climbs quickly over the console to settle in his lap and their mouths clash on the way and Iker's hands are shaking with need on him, they're crushing soft skin in strong fingers and his arms are crushing in around Sergio in a startling amount of hunger. Sergio lets out a small audible breath for the strength Iker is using with him and Iker pushes his hands down Sergio's body, starving down over his back and gripping his ass (hungry hungry hungry still) before he fumbles with the head of his own dick that is nudging between Sergio's firm cheeks. He pushes and pushes until he can ease inside of him and Sergio's body comes to life then, lifting and edging until they can get the angle just right and Iker pushes in dry, uncaring of any discomfort for either of them because Sergio is so warm and he's so familiar and he's so _his_ and they wrap their arms around each other and clutch and clutch and breathe, still getting used to each other again. Sergio cups Iker's face with trembling care and kisses at his jaw, moving his hips in a slow circle and Iker grips his hips and grits his teeth and stutters a gasp out in the warm air. He pushes his arms to wrap as low around Sergio's waist as he possibly can to hold him up and thrust up into him and the desperation in Iker's entire body makes Sergio breathless immediately. He licks his fingers and reaches behind himself and wets Iker's dick as it slides inside him and then wraps his arms around his neck, riding Iker's rhythm as quietly as he can.

"God, the way you let me have you. The way you take me." Iker kisses up along Sergio's neck and Sergio's eyes fall closed as he strokes Iker's cheeks, using his thighs to lift and lower himself heavy and fast to match Iker's pace. Iker kisses at Sergio's slack, swollen mouth, hips slowing down because Sergio is languid on top of him now, he's heavy and beautiful and half asleep with pleasure. Iker digs all the way up into him and throbs there, letting the grip of Sergio's body on him be enough while they kiss slowly.

"You're never a burden to me. I always want you this close. I always want to give you everything."

Sergio nods and his face crumples and Iker kisses up across his cheeks immediately, racing to get to the tears before they fall. Sergio sucks in a fast breath and holds in a sob as he presses his face into Iker's hair, moving over him once more, drawing Iker in and out of his body. Iker hugs him fiercely against his body, sucking on his neck and fucking him solidly now. Sergio reaches down to give himself just a few strokes so that they can come together, so that when Iker closes his mouth around the narrowest part of Sergio's shoulder and bites and sucks instead of crying out he's kissing at the top of Iker's head, dripping all over his hand and Iker's bare stomach and the heat around them is so much and it's so good and Sergio can't hold his body up anymore and Iker doesn't want him to. He pacifies himself by licking and kisses at Sergio's skin, slowing them both down to a stop and Sergio curls down over him, resting his cheek against Iker's opposite shoulder and his arms are loose around his neck now.

Fernando watches them in studied awe, his heart tripping around in his chest for the emotion thickening the air in the car, for how their bodies still move together even as they fall asleep, for how he can see the curl of Sergio's back where it turns into ass and how Iker's arm is wrapped there like someone will try to take Sergio from him while they sleep. He can still hear Sergio's soft sniffles as they turn into deep and then deeper breaths and he can tell by the tension in Iker's shoulder and arm that he's still awake, that his mind is filled with a thousand thoughts.

Fernando won't sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Psst. Sergio."

Sergio gives a small grunt and curls up tighter on his side. He frowns in his sleep and wishes somewhere in his mind that he had a blanket. Fernando frowns and nudges him again, a little harder this time.

"PSST. Sergio!"

"Nnnfff. What?"

"Get up! I have things to show you!"

"Can't this wait 'til morning?"

"It _is_ morning! It's like..." Fernando looks around for a clock but the car is turned off and he naturally doesn't wear a watch so he turns to the trusty sun and squints. "Early. Come on, I got stuff!"

Sergio finally opens his eyes and he's met with Fernando's which are awake and bright and excited. Sergio sighs before pushing himself up, uncurling and his whole body aches. He groans as he tries to stretch and Fernando grabs his arm and pulls him into the backseat, his voice still an excited whisper.

"Look!"

Sergio climbs over the console (dressed only in his pants but he's not quite awake enough to realize it yet) and settles down next to Fernando who has a pile of CDs between them and he gestures down at them grandly. Sergio blinks and wipes sleep out of his eyes.

"What is this?"

Sergio didn't choose his words carefully and it earns him a blank stare from Fernando.

"Compact discs? Gypsies use them sometimes to record music on to make some money. Or as earrings."

Sergio glares at him finally and Fernando cheshire cat grins.

"I couldn't sleep so I went wandering and I found this badass all night record store and they had tons of shit! So I got some music I want you to hear. Shit you just _need_ to hear, you know what I mean? Like..." His eyes fly over the CDs and he snatches one up to show Sergio. "Like Gogol Bordello. I was thinking about it layin' here last night and they're perfect for you! For us! They're _gypsy punk_ , it's like if we had a kid or something!"

Sergio stares at him and Fernando is so excited, grinning so broadly that Sergio can't help but smile back. Fernando laughs in what can only be called delight and he leans forward to press a sloppy kiss to Sergio's cheek.

"And I got some GG Allin, you know. Asshole essentials, the guy was a fuckin' madman. And just some other stuff I think you'd like. It's the music of the fuckin' _soul_ , you know what I mean? Like Cock Sparrer and 7 Seconds and The Adicts and The Circle Jerks and like... some different stuff, like the Refused and Hot Water Music and the fuckin' Transplants and Bouncing Souls and..." He finally takes a breath and Sergio's grin is even bigger.

"And you think I'll like this stuff?"

"I kept it kinda mainstream cause I don't wanna freak you out! I just want you to hear some of my love songs for you. Wanna flirt with you with some background noise." He's grinning up at Sergio through his lashes now and Sergio is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Fernando leans forward and clasps Sergio's hand. "Think your boyfriend will let me put a CD in?"

Sergio shakes his head almost shyly and his hand wiggles under Fernando's.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"He fucks you like you're the love of his life."

Sergio pulls away completely then, beyond embarrassed. He looks away from Fernando but Fernando grabs ahold of his hand and gives it an urgent tug, begging him to look at him again. Fernando tries to look as understanding as he knows how.

"It's cool, don't freak out. I just don't get you guys, I guess. Does he pretend to be straight back home or something? Is that why y'all aren't together?"

"No, we're just... we have two very different lives. It's hard to be with someone when you live like I do."

"Why don't you just move in with him? Stop all the traveling. I mean, it's obvious you're crazy about him." Fernando is frowning but it's small and soft and rather childish and he's digging his nail against the edge of a wrapper on one of the CDs, tearing the plastic off slowly so he won't miss anything Sergio says.

"Because that's not who I am. It wouldn't be honest of me and I'd just end up leaving. And I don't want to hurt him. He's my best friend." Sergio sounds young and too fragile for it to be so bright outside and he picks up a CD as well, not as well versed in opening such contraptions as Fernando is but he gets the concept.

"Why don't you live with him?"

"Because." Sergio frowns and his face is suddenly determined. He looks up at Fernando and searches his eyes and Fernando forgets for a minute what they're even talking about. "I made this decision and... and it's not his job to take care of me. It's not his fault that this is my life and I'm not going to burden him."

"What if he wanted you live with him anyway? Like, even if you had a nice setup and everything on your own? I'd fuckin' kill for a man to love me like that. Pretty frat boy with a nice, fat cock wanting to take care of me? Pft." Fernando shakes his head like Sergio is crazy and he cracks open the first CD. "Fairytale come true."

"He's not a frat boy."

Fernando grins at him and pulls out the CD, sliding it onto his forefinger and wiggling it at Sergio. "You love his cock though, don't you?"

Sergio blushes deeply and rips at the plastic on the CD now, only succeeding in tearing it off because he's doing it rather brutally. "It's not about that."

"It was last night though, wasn't it? The air was hot and he looked good, didn't he? It'd been too long and you remembered how he felt, you wanted him to fuck you so you'd feel safe, like you were home. You want a home just as much as anybody else does."

"Stop it. This isn't about you. This isn't any of your business."

"It could be, if you'd let it be."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want some fuckin' breakfast. I'm starved."

They both jump at the sudden sound of Iker's voice and at his long arms as he stretches them over his head and pushes them up against the ceiling inside the car. He lets out a roaring, dramatic yawn and arches in the seat, settling back down with a rested sigh. After he grabs his glasses from the dashboard and shoves them on his face he turns to face them. Fernando is watching Sergio but Sergio's eyes are trained on the CD in his hands. He frowns at Fernando.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," Sergio says quickly, leaning up toward Iker and presses a soft, uncharacteristic kiss to his mouth. Iker smiles, pleased, and kisses him back, an arm crooked to cup his cheek while he does. Fernando shuffles loudly in the backseat and grabs a few of the CDs, opening up the door and hopping into the passenger seat beside Iker. He swats at them until they stop kissing and Sergio disappears into the backseat once again and Iker glares at Fernando this time.

"What do you want?"

"Got some CDs. Wanna play 'em."

"I don't wanna hear any of your screaming bullshit this early in the morning. I've already got a headache from just hearing you talk for five minutes. And I gotta piss." With that Iker climbs out of the car, reaching down immediately to zip and button his pants when they almost fall off of him. Sergio shoves the CDs aside with his feet and piles himself into a corner of the car, acting his age for once and Fernando almost feels bad.

"You wanna hear the geep-see pawnk?" He waves the CD enticingly at Sergio before reaching to turn the key in the ignition, ejecting Bob Dylan from the stereo and slipping in the neon green CD in its place. A rapid, homemade beat starts up, the sound of hands tapping on clothed legs and Fernando joins right in as he climbs back into the backseat, beaming at Sergio from ear to ear. "You're gonna like this, I promise!"

"Sally was a fifteen year old girl from Nebraska! Gypsies were passin' through her little tooooown! They dropped something on the road, she picked it uuup!" He cackles maniacally. "And cultural revolution right away begun! Oh no! Cultural revolution just begun!" When the loud drums start and Fernando starts hopping in his seat, Iker opens the door and climbs back in the car and stares at the stereo.

"What the fuck is this."

"Gogol Bordello!" Fernando shimmies to the violins and the crazy guitars, looking truly wild, looking infuriatingly charming and Sergio is watching him out of the corner of his big dark eyes. Fernando reaches over for his hands and forces him to clap along with the beat and Sergio plays along half-heartedly, not exactly hating the music but not exactly getting how it applied to him except when the word "gypsy" was used. Fernando claps along as well and he looks truly happy, shining toward Sergio and he sings along as Iker groans and starts the car.

"Fuckin' kid."

Fernando dances with his whole body, reaching for Sergio's hands and dancing with him as best as he can. Sergio smiles and shakes his head but he's forgiven him.

"What's up with this guy?"

"He's part gypsy, like you!"

"Oh." Sergio listens more carefully now, not ever having considered that a gypsy would want to do anything not traditionally Roma, let alone something as bizarre as this. Fernando studies his face and sees his chance for a conversion.

"He wants to spread the gypsy culture to us uneducated 'mericans! You two can save me, I know it." He snuggles in against Sergio and wraps his arms around him and wiggles against him in an erratic dance and Sergio can feel his smile against his neck. He wraps his arms around him and more or less hugs him, letting himself be moved as they start driving down the road again. Fernando sings softly in his ear and Sergio closes his eyes and listens to the lyrics (they're always his favorite part) and he gives a laugh.

"This really does sound like if you wrote a song about something I told you. Just completely skewed my words and all."

"Are you in love with me yet?"

Sergio laughs once more, tightening his arms around Fernando and Fernando's chest constricts for the strength in them.

"No."

"I'll keep singin' then."

 

\--

 

"Christ, I'm almost out of gas. And I'm really hungry now." Iker says this mostly so he has an excuse to turn down the music (now some band called The Germs who aren't all that horrible, compared to some of the crap his ears have been polluted with today). He glances back in the rearview and sees Fernando and Sergio's eyes on each other, sees Fernando's fingers curling against Sergio's hairline and they're talking softly and not even paying any damn attention to what he said. He sighs loudly, glancing back again for a reaction. Nothing.

"Why do you play guitar?" Fernando's voice is so soft and he runs the pad of his finger over and over Sergio's eyebrow, his touch beyond gentle and it's completely lulling to Sergio whose eyes are heavy, trusting. He searches Fernando's eyes and smiles at him, touched that he would want to know any of this.

"My mom always told me about my grandfather who played the guitar and how he'd taught her. She said she wasn't a natural like he was but that she had the voice. She taught me how to play and she would sing along with me. She told me that I played just like him. That I have his nose, his smile, his laugh. She said that he is living through me."

"You play for him."

"To keep him alive, yes. I learned all the old songs, songs only my family knew, songs that have been around for hundreds of years. They're in me now, right here." Sergio lifts a hand to rest it on his chest, over his heart and Fernando's hand follows, pressing against Sergio's chest and the earnestness in his eyes make Sergio keep talking. "I can't let him get lost."

"You're so fucking amazing." Fernando sounds embarrassed by how much he means what he says and his slightly pinked cheeks prove it. "I've never had a thought like that about my family. Not ever."

"Tell me about your family."

Fernando scoffs quietly but he's too content right now for there to be much conviction behind it. Sergio lifts a hand and runs the back of it down Fernando's cheek and Fernando's heart races secretly in the trap of his thin chest.

"Nothin' much to tell. They're gone, or at least most of 'em are. Never did nothing good for me my whole life."

"What about your dad?"

Fernando's eyes darken.

"Definitely never did nothin'."

"Where is he?"

"Hopefully in hell if karma is true."

"Give me some money, kid, I've gotta get gas." Iker unbuckles his seatbelt and sighs again, agitated. He blindly pops the gas tank door open and opens the door, one leg out before he turns and holds his hand open for Fernando to put money in it. Fernando just blinks at him.

"What?"

Iker's face falls blank.

"Mon-ey. That stuff you earned with your pretty mouth? Give me twenty bucks, I have to get gas, come on. We can be in New York City in an hour and a half if we hurry. David'll be getting off work."

Fernando looks just as blank as Iker.

"I don't have any more money."

Iker looks absolutely lethal now.

"What the fuck do you mean, you don't have any more money? You had like, a hundred and fifty dollars after we ate last night. What the fuck did you do with it?"

Fernando looks scared now and he lifts up away from Sergio, avoids both of their eyes.

"I, um. I spent it."

Iker's head twitches as if he just maybe didn't quite hear him right.

"You... you what?"

"I spent it!" Fernando snaps at him, eyes glittering in defiance but he's still scared and he's tensed, ready to bolt.

"On what?! What the fuck could you spend that much mo--" Iker looks over in the passenger seat at the pile of CDs there. He slowly looks back at Fernando and Fernando pedals as far away from him as he can get.

"It was my money! I earned it!"

"It was our fucking _gas money_ , you little bastard! It's _you're goddamn fault_ we're having to do this in the first place, I don't care how many dicks you have to suck to get us out of it, you just _fucking do it!_ "

"Iker."

"Stop it, Sergio. Stay out of this."

"Hey. Don't fuckin' talk to him like that." Fernando pushes up toward Iker now, chest out to try and look as intimidating as he can and Iker grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him into the front seat, throwing him down on the pile of CDs. Fernando scrambles to try and get off of them. "You made me break my CDs! You fuckin--"

Iker lands a punch straight across his jaw and it hits him so hard that he smacks back into the window and crumples down into the seat. He reaches up to touch his face gingerly, the inside of his mouth busted from where his teeth hit the tender inside of it so hard. He tries to move his mouth but it hurts too fucking bad. He looks over at Iker who he's expecting to look regretful but he's still bright red with fury, waiting for another comment from Fernando, just waiting. Fernando gathers blood in his mouth and spits it at Iker, spraying him red before he opens the passenger door, spilling CDs all over the pavement and he takes off running, his long legs and his fear driving him out of Iker's line of sight almost immediately.

Iker growls and he looks back at Sergio who is curled down in the seat, hands covering his head as much as he can and he's shaking. Iker's eyes flood with tears and his shoulders drop and he slams his fists down against the steering wheel, screaming in frustration.

"Sergio, go find him. Please."

Sergio sniffles loudly and Iker can feel him nod more than he sees it. He hears the door open and he hears Sergio unfold himself and climb out of the car, barely closing the door back and he hears him jingle as he runs across the parking lot, dressed once again in his full wardrobe. Iker deflates and digs his forehead into his steering wheel, not caring when his glasses fall off, trying to force the fury to subside, if not for the sake of his blood pressure, at least for Sergio.

 

Sergio finds him just where he expects to, at the back of the gas station near the dumpsters, eerily similar to the place they'd hidden when they'd ran from the police station. He crouches down to kneel beside Fernando's curled body and he's trying to light a cigarette, trying to ward off the wind to get the flame to hold long enough. Sergio takes the lighter from him and flicks it once, pressing it to the tip of Fernando's cigarette and Fernando inhales gratefully, a shaky plume of smoke leaving his lips and Sergio examines his jaw, reaching over to touch it softly.

"Are you okay?"

Fernando nods stonily, his eyes trained on the dingy blue dumpsters instead of on Sergio. He flicks his cigarette free of ashes and pushes it back to his mouth.

"He ain't my fuckin' daddy. He ain't got no right to hit me."

Sergio sighs and he wraps an arm around Fernando's shoulders, pulling himself in close against him and nestling his nose in against Fernando's jaw. Fernando blinks rapidly but refuses to cry, absolutely refuses.

"Nobody should hit you. Ever."

"Are you mad at me, too?"

Sergio sighs again and his breath washes over Fernando's skin and Fernando gives himself the luxury of closing his eyes. "Why did you have to spend _all_ the money on CDs?"

"I wanted you to hear them."

The silence that follows is loud and loaded and Sergio knows without a doubt that what Fernando said was true. He tugs at Fernando's unruly blonde mohawk and tries to tuck it behind his ear. He drags his nose up along Fernando's scruffy cheek and leaves a kiss there.

"Come on. Let's go figure out what we're gonna do."


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, fuck."

Sergio lifts his head from where it's resting on the window and he looks over at Iker next to him. The car slows to a stop and Iker coasts over to the side of the road, easing onto the breaks. He turns off the ignition and sighs. Sergio looks scared.

"Are we out of gas?"

"Yes, Sergio. We're out of gas. That $2.44 we found in change in the console and in our pockets didn't get us very far." Iker glances over at Sergio who looks regretful and who looks back out the window. Iker's wrist aches sharply and he reaches over to curl his fingers in Sergio's hair, leaning toward him to kiss his temple softly three times. "If you ever forgive me for any of this, Sergio, I'll be so grateful."

"Well, the sun's getting ready to set and we're about an hour outside of the city. And..." Fernando glances around at the barren field they're next to, the factory in the far distance. "There ain't nothin' near here for a few miles. Let's camp out!"

Iker and Sergio both turn to look at Fernando blankly.

"Camp out."

"Yeah! You've got some jackets in the trunk and a couple of old towels and Magic and me're wearin' about twenty-thousand layers between us. We can just spread it all out and--" Fernando gasps, his big eyes growing even bigger, his freckles darkening as his cheeks flush excitedly. "We can build a fire!"

Iker blinks just once.

"A fire."

"Ain't that whatcha do when you sleep outside?"

"Not in fucking June."

"Oh. Well." Fernando seems to get smaller again and he looks uncertainly out the window, all his excitement gone. Sergio struggles to turn toward him in his seat. He tries to smile encouragingly.

"Too bad we won't have s'mores?"

Fernando looks over at Sergio then and he beams at him.

"I bet we can improvise!"

With that, Fernando piles out of the car and runs around to the back of the car, thumping his hand on the trunk a few times.

"Pop it! I'm gonna start makin' up the beds!"

"Maybe I'll get eaten by some radioactive coyote in the middle of the night," Iker mutters to himself as he cranes down and lifts the lever that opens the trunk. Sergio kisses Iker's mouth quickly before he's out of the car, too, walking around and finding Fernando standing very still, his eyes beyond huge. Sergio pales.

"What? What is it?"

Fernando turns to him slowly, lifting an arm. The bottle in his hand sloshes.

"Motherfuckin' Jack Daniels."

Iker groans as he closes his car door, shaking his head all the way over to them.

"That's not mine."

"Oh, shut up. It's not cocaine." Fernando somehow tucks the massive bottle on his person and reaches in for a few of the clothes strewn about in the back of Iker's trunk. "What, did you live in your car for awhile?"

"No. Broke up with someone in the middle of the night a month or so ago. These were gathered from the sidewalk." Iker gathers a bunch of the clothes and walks over to the field. dropping them in a pile and Fernando follows.

"Cock or pussy?"

Iker wrinkles his nose at him.

"Are you always so tactful?"

Fernando squints at him thoughtfully.

"Cock."

Iker sighs, defeated.

"Wrong. Pussy."

Fernando cackles.

"I made you say pussy."

Iker glares at him half-heartedly and gives him a little shove on his way back to the car. He smiles at Sergio who is carefully draping t-shirts over his arm and steps up behind him, arm sliding around his stomach and he kisses his cheek.

"You always act like my clothes are worth a million dollars."

Sergio blushes under Iker's lips and he feels Iker smile. He pulls out a pair of underwear but throws them back in the trunk, reaching instead for a hoodie.

"They're nicer than mine."

"You can have any of them, all of them. Okay?" Iker hugs him now, tightening his arms to pull Sergio back against him. Fernando strides up and smacks Iker hard on the ass.

"Can't you guys hold off on the foreplay until I'm asleep? For fuck's sake."

Iker and Sergio don't catch his triumphant smile when they pull apart.

 

\--

 

"Guitar! Guitar! Guitar!" Fernando is grinning so hard his whole stupid face hurts and he's clapping as he chants at Sergio. Sergio smiles shyly and picks up his guitar, dragging it up into his lap and letting his fingers flutter over the strings. Fernando's eyes widen in surprise and his grin disappears into awe. Iker is sprawled out on Fernando's clever pile of clothes that actually makes a pretty nice bed, warm from the several swigs of whiskey he'd had. He watches Sergio in something like longing but he doesn't know if it's loneliness or lust or admiration. He closes his eyes and listens to the guitar and wants to say something about how it had been too long since he'd heard him play. The fire crackles between them and he feels strangely like they're in a different time.

Fernando sits across from Sergio, watching him intently as he starts to play an actual song, humming to himself but it's soft, not meant to be heard. Fernando reaches over and touches Sergio's knee and Sergio's eyes shoot open, startled. Fernando smiles at him.

"Please sing, Magic?"

"Oh, I'm not... I'm not a singer."

"This song has words though. Doesn't it?"

"You have to promise you won't laugh at me."

"Cross my heart."

Sergio looks back down at his guitar, starting the song over but singing this time, his voice mournful, shot through with strange inflection. Fernando knows better than to think he can understand the words so he just listens, watches the way Sergio's mouth forms the foreign words, the way his face contorts in some sort of pain, the way his long fingers spread out as he taps the body of the guitar in a fast, complicated clapping in between strums of his guitar. When it's over Sergio opens his eyes and meets Fernando's shyly, giving him a small smile, busying himself with random, fingering notes on the guitar. Fernando just gazes at him.

"Was that Spanish?"

"Kind of. Gitano Spanish." Sergio clears his throat softly and looks back down at his guitar, his cheeks pink from modesty and from alcohol. Fernando moves closer to him.

"What was it about?"

"About a man who kills his lover's husband because he hurts her. He knows she deserves better and that he's the only one that can love her like she needs to be loved. So he kills her husband. And she is so overcome with grief and guilt that she kills herself."

Fernando raises his eyebrows.

"That's fucked up."

"Most _cante jondos_ are really sad. This one was about my grandfather's mother and father."

"Wait. Was your great grandfather the killer or the killed?"

"Killer."

"...Wow."

"I know." Sergio looks shy again and the song he's playing slows down and changes completely. Fernando is sitting directly in front of him now, their knees touching. He watches his face closely.

"How do you do that clapping?"

"What do you mean?"

Fernando squirms uncertainly.

"Well, I mean. Like. There's a rhythm to it, I guess. So how do you figure it out? It's not just normal clapping."

"It's just kind of... inherent. You just kind of feel where the rhythm should be and where it should go. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of like dancing? Like when I'm throwin' myself around there's a _rhythm_ to it."

Sergio grins at him and his fingers still on the guitar.

"Yeah. Like that."

Fernando leans forward and his forehead ghosts Sergio's.

"You're so sexy."

Sergio tries to duck his head again but Fernando bumps their foreheads together to keep him from doing it. The fire crackles and pops near them. Iker's eyes aren't closed anymore.

"You're just desperate, that's all. It's either me or truckers, right?"

"I would think you were sexy no matter where we were."

"I haven't even played any love songs."

Fernando sits back and looks interested all over again.

"You know any?"

Iker closes his eyes once more, silently relieved.

 

\--

 

"Shit! You're going to make me fall in the fire!" Fernando laughs maniacally as he runs around the fire, indeed flinging himself around in a rather rhythmic way. Music blares from the car which they had rolled farther into the field and is now right next to their little camp. Fernando had put in yet another Gogol Bordello CD, this one live and acoustic and much more Sergio's pace thanks to the guitar and Eugene Hütz's strange, strange voice. Sergio is probably pretty drunk now and is dancing around the fire in an almost eerily impish way, looking otherworldly in his layers and with his jingling bells, laughing much more freely than he had in probably years. He catches up to Fernando and grabs ahold of his wrists and pulls him closer, trying to make Fernando dance in a proper way but Fernando goes back to thrashing around. They fling themselves around, dancing way too close to the fire for Iker's liking but he'd been trying in vain for the past half hour to get them to dance somewhere else. He's still not drunk enough to dance but he's sitting up at least, the bottle in his hand and he's grinning at them.

"So are you two going to end up fucking tonight? I need to know if I should go sleep in the car tonight."

Sergio stops and bursts out laughing but Fernando pulls him immediately back into their skipping dance.

"Iker!"

"Stop ruining my seduction, asshole!"

Iker flops back down onto his back and stares up at the sky which is bursting and heavy with white-hot stars. He feels deeply content in some strange way, in a temporary and painful way but he knows better than to question it. He takes another sip of whiskey and closes his eyes again, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.

Sergio finally pulls Fernando down onto the pile of clothes and they're both breathless, all laughed out and so they just smile at each other as they settle on their sides. Fernando reaches over and pulls Sergio closer, slipping his hand underneath the back of Sergio's shirt, cold fingers resting on burning skin. Sergio's eyes close when Fernando kisses him and he doesn't protest at all when Fernando's leg drapes over his own so that they're flush against each other now. He parts his lips when Fernando slips his tongue in and he glides his own against it. Sergio pulls away after a moment and relaxes back against their makeshift bed, his eyes black in the darkness but bright and Fernando can see them clearly, the fire filling them and making him look frighteningly beautiful. He runs his hand up his back, over mysterious scars and gathers sweat on his palm.

"Tell me a secret."

Sergio stays silent as he thinks of what to say to him, so full of secrets that he's kept for years and years, some that aren't his own that would never leave his mouth, others that are his own that feel less important, that are more shameful, not worthy of being called secrets. Fernando kisses his mouth again because it just looks that soft and he's reminded of it. Sergio smiles.

"I didn't want to leave home."

When he says it it's a whisper, beyond quiet and Fernando knows then that Sergio had never said that aloud. Fernando pushes on Sergio's clothes until his stomach is revealed and he presses their bodies together, his own already bare stomach pressing against Sergio's. They both gasp softly through their noses.

"Why?"

Sergio's eyes flutter then and he shakes his head, closing himself off again and Fernando wraps his arm around him, his leg already over him and he's hugging him against his own body, making the vast space they're in seem small, safe. Sergio accepts it gratefully.

"It doesn't matter."

"I won't never tell anybody. Ever." Fernando tips his head up and kisses Sergio's cheek. Sergio's breath rattles around in his chest and over Fernando's skin. He closes his eyes and his lashes tickle Fernando's face.

"My father knew I was gay."

"What, was he going to send you to fag camp or somethin'?"

Sergio lets out a sharp exhalation, a rueful laugh. Fernando watches him almost obsessively and frowns when he shakes his head.

"Tell me, Magic. Please."

"What do you think any normal, traditional, Midwestern father would do if he found out his only son was queer?"

"Beat the shit out of you any chance he got." Fernando sounds sad and knowing and an understanding moves between them. They clutch closer now and Fernando's lips close in another kiss on Sergio's cheek. Sergio nods but it's tiny, barely an admission but Fernando knows it is. "Where was his favorite place?"

"My back."

"With what?"

"Anything. Belt, his hand, rope, a bat once. Mostly his hand." Sergio's voice is dull and far away again and Fernando can't hold him tight enough.

"Show me?"

Sergio shakes his head hard, trying to wriggle out of Fernando's grasp, the spell almost broken. Fernando holds onto him, resisting his movement and keeping him close.

"I'll show you mine if you do."

Sergio looks up into his eyes and they stare at each other quietly for a long moment. When he pulls away this time, Fernando lets him go. Sergio sits up and peels his clothes off, one layer at a time, throwing them in a pile that he would use as a pillow later until he's bare-chested. He turns his back to Fernando and stares at the fire, his heart thudding in his chest because it hurts, all of it, the admission, Fernando's understanding, the truth of all of it, the scars. All of it.

Fernando's eyes trail over Sergio's back, at the thick and thin twining scars that run almost beautifully up his soft skin. He knows then that it was more than a belt or his hand, that it was more methodical than that, more planned, a sick ceremony. He lifts a hand and lays gentle fingers on the center of Sergio's back and Sergio shivers. The fire blurs and brightens in his vision. He prays that Iker is asleep. When he feels Fernando's mouth close on the ugly scars, he arches his back, a gasp leaving his mouth and his chin trembles. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, calmed by Fernando's hands on his sides as that mouth kisses from the small of his back all the way up across both shoulders. Fernando licks at the scars, the cruel welts on otherwise perfect skin, stopping when he reaches the nape of Sergio's neck. He wraps his arms around him from behind and hugs him back against himself, breathing him in slowly until Sergio's breaths go from ragged and heavy to much softer, calm again. He reaches for Fernando's hand that is covering his heart, that contains the knowledge of how quickly it is beating and jumping and rattling around in his chest and he kisses his palm, digging his lips shaking and well-meaning into the maze of lines inside Fernando's hand. When he speaks it's startling to them both and his voice is strained, small.

"Show me yours."

Fernando opens his eyes, sighing across Sergio's skin. He drops one last kiss to the side of his neck and pulls away, lying back on the clothes as Sergio turns to face him. Fernando unzips his pants and opens them up, tugging them down his bony hips to reveal the very lowest part of his stomach, a cruel, half-inch thick corded scar that stretched from one hipbone to the other. Sergio stares at it in shock, knowing how lethal such a wound could be. Fernando looks defiant now, jaw set. He stares up at the sky and his voice is shaky but clear.

"Broken beer bottle. It was his last time."

Sergio glances up at his face.

"Why?"

Fernando is breathing faster now and he shakes his head, a jerky movement and his jaw is protruding through his skin, he's clenching it so hard. His hands are fists against his chest and he looks tragically young.

"Because I made it his last time."

Sergio forces the surprise from his face, forces himself to react as little as possible. He looks back down at the scar and curls down over Fernando's body, his nose dragging over it before he starts to kiss it, small, soft kisses, reverent. Fernando strangles out a sound that is quite beyond painful and he reaches down to fist the back of Sergio's hair, his hand angry and almost cruel but Sergio knows better. Fernando pushes Sergio's face hard against his soft little belly and Sergio kisses harder at the scar, his palms hurting from how hard they're pressed into the ground. He licks and sucks at the scar until it's damp and tender and hurting just a little and then he kisses quickly up Fernando's body until he's at his mouth and they're kissing desperately, both too emotional to cry and too proud to as well. Their bodies tangle and Fernando is panting into Sergio's mouth, sounds that would be sobs if he wasn't so exhausted, so drained. Sergio curls his hand around Fernando's jaw and forces calm into him and Fernando actually feels it spread through his body, seeping under his skin and working its way into his bones and he sighs finally, his eyes damp. He turns his head to catch hold of Sergio's fingers with his mouth, drawing in the first two and he starts to suck on them like he had that day before that seems now like a thousand ago. Sergio doesn't laugh this time because it calms him, too, because it feels needed and right and protective and protecting and safe. He closes his eyes and their breathing matches and Fernando continues to suck on them as he falls asleep, lulled by the motion and by the dirt and salt of Sergio's skin, by his jagged fingernails against his tongue, by the callouses from the guitar strings. Sergio hears Iker get up before he falls asleep, hears the music get turned off and hears the door of the car close as quietly as it can. The wet sound of Fernando's mouth eases him to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Iker opens his eyes and, after several beats of yawns and scratches and digging for his glasses, peers out of the car in the hot morning sun to the little camp that seems all but abandoned. He drags himself from the car, cursing in his mind at how his body is starting to remind him of Quasimodo after being curled up in the front of a car for three damn days and nights. As he gets closer, he starts to realize that he only sees a blonde head and not a dark brown one and he breaks into a run. He reaches out and shakes Fernando as soon as he can reach him, his eyes already up and surveying the camp, squinting as far as he can see. Fernando lets out a yelp and tries to fend Iker off until he can wake up enough to scramble away from him, fear shining bright and confused in his eyes. Iker almost feels bad for a second.

"Where is Sergio?"

"Fuck." Fernando plops himself down on his ass and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Damnit, I 'on't know. I just fuckin' woke up, obviously. And thank you, by the way."

"Where the fuck is he?! He's not fucking here!" Iker's voice is shrill now and his heart is stammering in his chest and he _knows_ , he just fucking knows without a doubt in his mind that Sergio has been kidnapped, that he's been helpless and beautiful in front of the wrong person or (Iker gulps) people and he's gone now, forever, sold into god knows what, given over to some greasy man for endless, sexual pleasure and no one would ever--

"Oh. Here's a note, I think."

Iker's head snaps up and he skitters toward Fernando, snatching the ransom note from his bony little fingers and peering at it through his dirty lenses.

"'Got a ride into town. Going to make some money, be back by noon. Sorry, S.'"

He looks up at Fernando in such a venomous way that Fernando flinches again.

"What!? What the fuck did I do now?!"

"Make money? Where do you think he got _that_ idea?"

Fernando blinks at him and then up at the lifeless car by the road.

"Um. From the fact that we're stuck on the side of the road in deserted place?"

"No, asshole, I mean what the fuck do you think he's going to do to make money?! Huh?" He starts toward Fernando but they're both seated and still groggy so they scramble gracelessly, messing up the previously rather comfortable bed.

"Prolly play guitar like he has been for the past year and a half?"

" _No._ He's probably gonna go suck _cock_ like the nasty whore we picked up taught him how to do!" Iker's words are almost spat at Fernando and the disgust is palpable. Fernando smirks.

"Oh, I haven't shown him how to suck cock yet. But I bet he doesn't need any lessons, does he?"

Iker's eyes are deadly now and he's suddenly wide awake.

"I'll kill you."

Fernando is up like a shot and bolting deeper into the field and Iker is hot on his heels, both of them serious now in one way or another (Iker in anger and Fernando in fear for his life). Iker catches him only because he's the more determined one and he tackles him to the ground, holding him down with his legs first until he can turn him over and he's grabbing his wrists, slamming them into the dry dirt and Fernando is still trying to curl up, trying to breathe (smoker), trying to protect himself from the inevitable, cruel fists on his body. He stares up into Iker's eyes in defiance, always in defiance, his small chest rising and falling rapidly and their eyes are pure, pure murder. When Iker's mouth slams into his, it's teeth first and his tender bottom lip is torn into and immediately sucked on. He arches up against him, still fighting against the handmade restraints that are knocking against the actual handcuffs still clinking on his thin wrists but he opens his mouth to him, allowing him in, not that he needs to because Iker would have gotten in anyway, he was ready to force his way in with the hard tip of his tongue and they moan at the same time, hard bodies pressing and digging and it's kissing now, rough, angry kissing.

Iker breaks away to breathe and his face is burning from being scratched by the hair on Fernando's and they stare at each other again, panting, teeth bared, looking more like dogs than boys. He licks his lips and Fernando does the same, both of them tasting blood.

"I hate you."

Fernando finds the will to smirk again and he rocks up against him, feeling Iker's dick digging hard as bone and alive as his heart against his stomach.

"Clearly."

Iker growls and he curls down to press his face into Fernando's neck, biting down on salty, sweaty skin and Fernando screams in pain, hips straining up even harder.

"You're a fuckin' whore. You're a liar and a criminal and a thief. You're a cocky little asshole. And if you hurt Sergio, I swear on my Daddy's grave, I will fuckin' tear you limb from limb. You got me?" Iker snarls the words into Fernando's skin and he bites down again, breaking skin this time and Fernando sobs, parting his mouth to do so and Iker kisses him again, softer this time somehow and Fernando kisses him back stubbornly, his heart in his mouth and against Iker's tongue. He nods as best as he can and as soon as he does Iker breaks away, his mouth bruised and summer rose and his eyes are wet and his cock is straining against his pants. Fernando stares up at him in thinly disguised lust, his legs parted there on the ground and Iker knows that Fernando would let him fuck him, right there, in broad daylight without any regard to anything in the world. When he swallows, they can both hear it.

"Go back to sleep."

Fernando manages a jerky nod and Iker stalks away, his eyes trained on the car and he's refusing to think about anything, especially that rat of a boy still watching him. Fernando drags himself back to the little bed and he tries to fix it the way it was before, when it was comfortable and a haven and his and Sergio's but it smells like Iker now and his dreams are almost fevered.

 

\--

 

"Iker?"

Iker starts awake, gasping as he does and he looks up at the person standing outside of his car window and sees Sergio standing there like an angel, hair blowing in the breeze and the sun behind him, bright and happy. Iker shoves his glasses on his face and blinks up at Sergio and he feels ridiculous when tears burn the corners of his eyes. Sergio holds up a large red container that sloshes in his trembling arm.

"I got gas."

Iker looks down at the container like it's gold and then back up at Sergio who looks tired and sunburned but otherwise unscathed. He studies his mouth for any damage and finds none. Sergio steps back when Iker opens the door and Iker takes the gas from him, setting it down on the ground and pulling Sergio in against his chest, hugging him tightly. Sergio wraps his arms around him, a smile on his face and his guitar case slips from where it's resting against his hip to the ground, a noise that wakes Fernando up down the way and he sees Sergio and hauls ass toward them. Iker kisses the top of Sergio's head and then lets him go enough so that their eyes can meet.

"Thank you."

Fernando is there now, panting but beaming and he drags Sergio away from Iker and squeezes him, lifting him up off his feet and Sergio bursts out laughing, a little scared for being off the ground but he tries not to show it. He pulls back and fiddles with his hair shyly because of the expectant faces in front of him.

"There's a woman who picked me up on the way to work. She gave me a key to her house and said we could shower there as long as it was before two cause that's when her husband gets home." Sergio holds up the key that's on a bit of string tied around his neck. Iker and Fernando just stare at him.

"How the fuck did you get some woman to give you a key to her house, Magic?"

Sergio shrugs honestly, running his fingers over the ridges on the key and remembers how much he loves keys.

"She asked me what happened to me and I told her some of it. She said I reminded her of her son. I don't know." His voice is small and Iker shakes his head, picking up the gas container again and reaching through the window into the car for the gas lever.

"Come on. Let's go shower."

 

\--

 

They get into New York City during a downpour. Fernando lays low in the backseat, avoiding looking up at anyone they pass or into any cars. Sergio's eyes are as big as saucers and he blinks up around them at the tall buildings, at the intimidating streets that belong to this city. Iker's hand and throat hurt from repeated honking and screaming at anything that illegally crosses his path.

"Do you know what time David gets off work?"

"No, Sergio." Iker's patience is running a little thin but he tries not to take it out on Sergio. "I'm lucky that I remember he works on this damn street."

Sergio nods in agreement and he wishes not for the first time that he owned a camera. He looks back at Fernando who is bundled up with nothing showing but his head and he gives him a smile.

"It looks so beautiful out here. Just like I imagined it would."

"Hrmph." Fernando curls up even tighter under one of Iker's jackets and he shakes his head stubbornly. Sergio sighs.

"Why are you hiding anyway?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

Iker sighs this time.

"Why are you wanted in New York City?"

"I didn't do nothin'! Those bastards--"

"Framed you?"

Fernando wriggles in the seat to sit up and his eyes are huge and he's staring at Iker in the rearview mirror.

"YES!"

"Oh, for christ's sake. Shit, there's a cop, get down!" Iker grins to himself when Fernando hits the floorboard and Sergio smacks his arm disapprovingly. Iker braves through a line of traffic and turns into the parking garage of the building where David works. He sighs with relief when he immediately spots a parkingspace and he ushers the two boys with him out of the car and into the elevator impatiently, reaching up to smooth out his own hair, feeling a little better now that he's showered and shaven and that his clothes are clean (the woman hadn't told Sergio he could use her washer and dryer but she also hadn't told him _not_ to). He walks bravely through the small lobby with the two misfits behind him who are hunkering together like refugees and he gives the woman behind the counter his best smile.

"I'm here to see David Silva."

She stares at him, unimpressed with his white teeth and his dimples.

"Excuse me?"

He leans forward and works his pretty eyes this time.

"He's expecting me. Tell him Iker Casillas is here to see him."

"Sir, David Silva works for Mr. Villa. Mr. Villa does not allow his employees to have visitors."

Iker raises his eyebrows.

"What if it's an emergency?"

"If it's an emergency, how does he know you're here?"

"Oh, for fuck's..." Fernando pushes his way in front of Iker and reaches down over the desk to snatch the woman's notebook away, his eyes scanning the page. "Fourth floor."

She jerks her notebook back, eyes bright with anger.

"Don't make me call security."

"We won't." Fernando gives her a sarcastic smile and leads the way to the elevators, taking it at a walk at first and it quickly turns into a run. Iker follows him in pure desperation and Sergio because he has nowhere else to go. They huddle into the elevator and Fernando slams his finger onto the close door button over and over, only looking frightened when he sees men in uniform charging at the doors before they whisper shut. Iker hits the fourth floor button and he leans back against the wall.

"God, if I survive this, I'm joining a monastery."

"You'll still beat off thinking about Sergio."

Iker turns slowly toward Fernando just as the doors open again. Fernando beams at him and then slips out onto the fourth floor, directionless but at least he's away from Iker and around potential witnesses now. Iker rushes past him and scans the plaques on the doors for David's name and when he finds it almost runs toward it. He knocks on the door in a flurry of movement but opens it without an answer, breath drawn to speak but before he can gets the air knocked out of him as David Silva is thrown toward him by an intimidating-looking man in a very, very nice suit. Both of their mouths are wet and pink and the guilt in Silva's eyes alone tell Iker more than he wants to know. Silva looks startled when he realizes who he staring at.

"...Iker? What..? How..?"

"David, who is this?" Villa folds his arms over his chest and doesn't look alarmed at all, doesn't even acknowledge that he's out of breath and that his tie is messed up. Fernando and Sergio crowd behind Iker, trying to see into the small office, to see the owners of the voices. Silva looks between Iker and Villa, mouth opening and closing ridiculously. Fernando snorts.

"He looks like a midget fish."

Villa frowns for that and motions for Iker to step aside which he does without hesitation, no loyalty to the loud-mouthed little bitch behind him. Fernando meets David Villa's eyes without fear, folding his arms over his chest just to prove it. Villa, beyond all reason, smiles.

"David, are these your friends?"

"Only Iker. I have no idea..." Silva squints to see Sergio who is half-hidden behind Iker and he looks alarmed all over again. "Iker, is that the kid who was sleeping on your couch?"

"Silva, I need your help." Iker is on the verge of a meltdown and he doesn't care how pleading he sounds. He steps into the office and grabs ahold of Silva's arm, squeezing it as he searches his eyes. Villa is still smiling at Fernando.

"David, we close in ten minutes anyway. Why don't we take your friends out to dinner with us?"

Silva shoots Villa an even more surprised look than he's already wearing.

"You don't... you don't have to do that. Really. I can wrap this up, sir, I promise."

"I don't mind at all. I'll have Judy call and change the reservations. Excuse me." Villa takes a step toward Fernando and Sergio to get past them and Sergio moves immediately, disappearing from view. Fernando edges over only a little, his eyes bright with curiosity and annoyance but they don't avert from Villa's as he gets closer. Their chests brush and Villa gives him a quick once-over and an even more pleased smile. Fernando's smirk is deadly and he reaches up to scratch at his mohawk, his scrappy version of preening. Sergio frowns at Villa's back as he saunters away.

Silva looks around at the three of them and his shoulders slump.

"Well. This should be painful."


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure this is okay?" Iker speaks under his breath to Silva who is sitting next to him, who looks stiff with nervousness and who seems to enjoy Villa's hand that is resting on his knee entirely too much. Silva glances over at him out of the corner of his eyes and shakes his head. Iker sighs and rubs his eyes. He's never ridden in the back of a limousine before and this experience is quickly overwhelming him. He looks over to Sergio for help and finds him staring out the window moodily, a frown painted on his pretty mouth. Iker sighs again.

"So what kinda car is this?" Fernando has both feet in the seat and is eating the strawberries from the iced bowl like they're going to melt soon. Villa's eyes are trained on him and he seems pleased with what he's seeing. He smirks at the little punk, fingers trailing lightly over his own jaw.

"A Bentley."

"Mm." Fernando nods, not impressed because he doesn't know much about Bentleys. He licks the juice trailing from his lips down his chin and flicks his eyes up to meet Villa's, a knowing, pink grin spreading over his lips. He sucks on the strawberry, keeping his eyes on him, hollowing out his cheeks and Villa's eyes gleam.

"You like strawberries?"

Fernando shrugs and finishes off his sixth strawberry, grabbing a couple of ice cubes and popping them in his mouth, crunching noisily instead of sucking on them, testing Villa's level of attraction to him. He sucks on the next one when he realizes Villa won't look away.

"Just hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I 'on't know. Yesterday mornin' or somethin'. Can't remember. Hitler over there keeps us moving." Fernando smirks at Iker who is glaring at him fiercely. Villa finally looks away to give Iker a polite smile.

"Is this your little brother?"

" _No._ " Iker and Fernando glare at each other for speaking at the same time. Fernando grins and eats another strawberry so Iker continues talking. "He's nobody to me. I'm his ride across country. Apparently."

Villa looks back over at Fernando and offers him a banana from the fruit bowl next to him. Fernando hesitates but takes one anyway.

"Where is your destination?"

"Las Cruces, New Mexico." Fernando says this surely, completing it with a nod. The car rolls to a stop in front of a restaurant and Fernando's mouth is already watering. "Where the fuck are we?"

"It's called Per Se. David and I like to come here after work. They have an amazing tasting menu. Please. Allow me." Villa opens the door and steps out just as the driver walks around. He motions for the driver to step back and holds the door open for Fernando himself who piles out of the car without even a thank you and Silva already looks grim. Iker steps out and tries to straighten his quickly dulling t-shirt and places a hand at the small of Sergio's back once he finds his way out of the car. Sergio looks up at him pitifully and Iker kisses the top of his head as they follow the rest into the restaurant.

They are ushered back into a private dining room and Villa looks perfectly at home and he pulls Fernando's chair out for him, again without receiving a thank you (which just makes Villa grin even more). Silva makes a production of pulling out his own chair and noisily pushing himself up to the table, absolutely pouting and looking rather adorable doing so. Sergio stops at the window that is drape in silk and stares out at the New York skyline, forgetting his anger and insecurities for a moment just to take it all in, just to let his heart clench up perfectly for the vast beauty of it all, for the colors of the sunset sinking in and for how absolutely massive the city looks. When he glances away he finds Iker's eyes on him and he blushes as he takes his seat, looking up at him again and they smile at each other and it takes everything in Iker's body not to reach over and clasp his hand.

"So, Las Cruces?" Villa stares at Fernando over the candles that are being lit between them, ignoring the pretty waitresses who bustle in and fill their wine glasses wordlessly, Villa's order already sent to the chef because it was the same every single time.

"Yeh. I have a couple of friends out there who can figger all this shit out and get it all fixed for me."

"Get what fixed?"

Fernando snatches a roll from the plate that is being lowered to the table and eats it greedily. Villa cannot stop staring at him.

"Shit. My life. Four warrants in four states. The fact that I'm being fuckin' followed, prolly."

Iker's eyes grow huge.

" _Four_ warrants?! What did you _do_!?"

Fernando smirks at him again.

"I don't gotta tell you _nothin'_."

"Who are these friends?" Villa takes a distracted sip of his wine and sits back in his chair, not at all alarmed by this growing story.

"Raúl and Guti. They can fix fuckin' _anything_. If anybody can get me outta this, it's them."

"Is this why you've come to see David?" Villa finally looks over at Silva who looks back at him sullenly. Villa's face is pure amusement infused with an underlying sexual current that tells Silva that he will get well fucked later. It consoles him a little.

"No. Not exactly. I've come to see David because..." Iker pauses and his cheeks color a little. He clears his throat and he wonders for the fifth time in half an hour how the fuck he got into this situation. "I need to borrow some money."

Silva lets out an embarrassed little laugh and he shifts in his seat, small hand clasped around his wine glass. "That's all?"

"That's all? Yeah, David. That's all." Iker laughs too but it's a little more bitter. He stares down at the wine in his hand and shakes his head to himself, realizing that the bottle it came from could probably pay for most of his textbooks. "We're fuckin' broke. And I don't know what else to do."

"How much do you need?" Villa empties the rest of the glass smoothly down his throat and it's immediately refilled. He licks his lips and Fernando lets out a burp but he does it in his fist so it at least feels polite.

"At least $2,000." He sounds reluctant but, when neither Silva or Villa laugh at him, he relaxes a little.

"That's all?" Silva stares at him and his face is full of distrust because surely there's a catch, right? Surely it involved that little mohawked fuckface across the table who's downing his second $90 glass of wine. Right?

"Why don't you just fly to New Mexico? You can be there tonight. This is oysters and caviar." Villa nods down at the plates being placed in front of them and he smoothes his linen out on his lap. Iker wrinkles his nose at it and Sergio gives a polite smile to the waitress as she gives him his food. Fernando just stares.

"...Don't this place have chicken salad? I've been _dyin'_ for some chicken salad. On toast! With lots of pepper and tomatoes!" He looks up at the waitress and when she gives him a blank stare he tries Villa, flashing him his naughtiest smile. Villa looks up at the waitress.

"Can you make him chicken salad? Tell Thomas it's for me."

Silva gapes at him. "One time I wanted cheesecake and you almost made us leave!"

Villa looks unperturbed.

"Would you like some chicken salad, too, David?"

Silva is aghast.

" _No!_ I'm not at some church picnic in Mississippi!"

Villa gathers a small bit of caviar and eats it as smoothly as he does everything else. Silva grumbles to himself and Iker can't help but smile at this.

"Anyway, no, I can't fly. I ain't allowed to fly." Fernando pokes at the oysters and licks his finger experimentally, surprised when he isn't repulsed by the taste.

"Why is that, love?" Villa lifts one of the pearly oyster shells over the table to bring it to Fernando's lips, not letting him deny it. "Just open your mouth and swallow."

Fernando grins before he obeys, letting the slimy lump fall onto his tongue and he swallows, gagging just a little but he gets it down. He smacks his lips, face screwed up in disgust but it evens out after a minute.

"Wasn't too bad, I guess."

"You want more though, don't you?"

"Want my chicken salad! Mmm." He drinks even more of his wine and swirls the rest of the glass around as he licks his lips. "This is pretty good."

Silva grits his teeth and growls softly under his breath. Villa sets his fork down on the table.

"So who is the quiet one over here? I can't imagine someone being quiet and being able to stay sane around you two."

Sergio looks up and almost hides his face when he realizes that every single one of them is staring at him.

"What?"

"This is Sergio. He's my best friend." Iker sounds firm and he meets Sergio's eyes and gives him a hopeful smile. Sergio's smile is weak and he won't quite look at any of them.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm a little tired, I think. Too much sun today." He moves the caviar around on his plate but can't quite bring himself to eat any of it, let alone the oysters.

"So, are you two fucking?"

Iker's head snaps up and he draws a quick breath to yell at Fernando but, when he realizes that he's talking to Silva and Villa, grins and looks back down at his plate. Silva slams down his glass which is almost magically empty and his voice is almost squeaky.

"What?"

"You and him." Fernando nods at Villa who is one again stroking his chin and staring at Fernando like he could fuck him just like this if he stares hard enough. Silva sneers at Fernando as best as he can and bristles.

"That is none of your business, is it? No. It's not. And you _don't_ amuse me, so stop trying to be cute."

"I don't have to try." Fernando lifts another oyster to his mouth and lets it spill down his throat and he licks his mouth at Villa and lets a slow, dangerous smile spread on his face.

"What do you say I make you a better offer than the $2,000?"

"Like what?" Fernando sounds uninterested and unimpressed and he pokes at the caviar and gathers some on his fork, squinting at it there.

"Like $5,000?"

All four of them look up at Villa then, all eyes equally wide. Fernando is the first to laugh.

"I'll take it!"

Villa sits back and tosses his napkin on the table, the meal immediately forgotten. He folds his arms over his chest and grins.

"Yeah?"

"Hell, yeah. I'm dumb but I ain't that dumb. I can't take checks neither." Fernando finally eats the caviar on his fork and he swallows dramatically, giving a tiny cough afterwards that almost sounds feminine. "Tastes like salty Jell-o."

"You realize there's a condition, right?"

Fernando looks up then, fork paused in the bit of caviar left on his plate. He licks his lips and gives Villa a blank stare.

"Like what?"

"Like you get on your knees right here and give me a really, really good blowjob. Because I need one and because I can tell you're damn good at them."

Iker looks over at Sergio immediately and is frightened not by anger in his eyes but by how blank he looks, by how he's staring out the window, by how white his knuckles look as he clenches his sleeves. Silva slams his glass down on the table and sits back, mirroring Villa's position, eyebrows raised, absolutely ready to reach across the table and strangle that smirking little bastard. Fernando's eyes don't leave Villa and he has his best poker face on.

"Why don't you get your boy-in-waiting over there to do it for you? It'd be a lot cheaper. Especially since it'd be off the clock."

Villa's face tenses slightly but reveals nothing.

"Is that a no?"

Fernando shifts in his chair, obviously considering. He glances first at Iker who is almost glaring at him and Fernando raises his eyebrows at him as if to say _what, this is the most I'd ever be getting paid to do it and you want me to say no?_ and Iker looks away. When he looks at Sergio he finds him in the same state Iker did, a shadow of himself, eyes lifeless and distant, seeming to try and take in the far-off skyscrapers in the failing light. He looks back over at Villa and shrugs, setting his fork down and pushing his chair back.

"I gotta see the money first."

Iker sucks in a deep breath and grips his napkin in his hand, uncomfortable that such a thing was going to happen in front of him, such a dirty thing with an obviously sketchy man. He watches as Villa pulls out several one hundred dollar bills from his wallet and counts them quickly with one hand, folding them and offering them over to Fernando between his fore and middle fingers.

"Here's $1300. I can make a phonecall and have the rest of it here in ten minutes."

Fernando licks his lips, eyeing the money now.

"You promise?"

Villa lays the money on the table and reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, pressing a button and the phone to his ear. Fernando stands up and makes his way over to him, going slowly so that Villa can push his chair completely out from under the table and offer Fernando the space between his now splayed legs. He watches him drop to his knees and he pushes his hips out in preparation. Fernando reaches out and unbuttons Villa's pants, working the zipper with frightening ease.

"I wanna feel your piercings, too."

Fernando smirks for that, knowing he has the control now because Villa obviously wants this, obviously has the hots for him. He tugs his pants open and then reaches up for Villa's free hand and brings it to rest on top of his head. He reaches into his pants and briefs and pulls his cock out, his hand strong and sure around it. Villa sucks in a deep breath.

"Pull my hair. I love it."

Villa wraps his fingers into Fernando's hair just as that dirty mouth wraps around the head of his cock and he has to close his throat so he doesn't cry out into the phone.

"Julia. Bring me $3700 cash. I'm at Per Se. Now."

Fernando moans loudly, his one hand disappeared down into Villa's pants and he's working fucking magic on his balls and the other hand is stretched up over Villa's chest, clawing at his clean white button-down. His eyes are trained up on Villa and he's working his cock with terrifying perfection. Villa grips his hair harder after he hangs up his phone and throws it on the table and pulls his head down so he can sink his cock down that open throat, his eyes rolling back in his head and then closed. Fernando moans and moans, opening his mouth so wide that it hurts in the corners and he can't breathe because his nose is buried in expensive fabric. He pulls back forcefully, having to because Villa's hand just won't let up and he's gasping for air, not protesting at all as the fingers in his hair grip even tighter and jerk his head back, he just opens his mouth and make his lips soft and Villa smacks his cock against against them, digging against the inside of his cheeks for delicious pressure.

"Christ, you're good. Christ." He slaps the outsides of Fernando's cheeks with his dick now, pushing his slit against each of his piercings and he growls for the sensation, already so close and he's almost embarrassed by it. His eyes widen as the door opens and a waitress tries to enter, armed with a large tray stacked with plates. Fernando ignores it and nibbles up along the underside of Villa's dick, a new moan cut short as cock is stuffed down his throat once again, Villa's barking voice filling his ears. "Leave. Now."

She leaves as quickly as she'd arrived, red-faced and almost dropping the tray. Villa returns his attention to Fernando, both hands in his hair now, pushing him down and holding him there, not letting him up even when he starts to choke. He cries out then, hips jerking up to stay all the way down his throat. Fernando's face is bright red and his eyes are watering but he's still staring up at him, knowing how deprecating this is, what a slut this makes him because all he can think about are tanks and tanks full of gas, all the greasy hamburgers he could ever want, maybe even some whiskey, some pot, tons of cigarettes, maybe a new pair of boots for Sergio. He gags and Villa starts to fuck his throat then, his voice breaking as he gasps and Fernando forces himself not to choke.

"Just a little longer just... oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck." Fernando's eyes fall closed and he swallows frantically as Villa starts to come and it empties down his throat. He grips the fabric on Villa's thighs and he can feel his hair breaking from how hard Villa is pulling it and he's crying out over and over, uncaring of who can hear him, obviously, or at least unaware because it feels too damn good. He finally releases him and Fernando pulls back immediately, cock falling out of his mouth and he coughs, having to swallow a few more times to get everything down and he licks his lips, hand coming up to wipe his dripping mouth and chin. He opens his mouth to say something but is jerked up by his hair, his mouth suddenly in contact with Villa's but he pushes himself away, forcing himself up to his feet, face still bright red and he's still swallowing hard.

"You didn't pay for a kiss."

A knock on the door interrupts anything Villa is going to say and he tucks himself back in calmly, still zipping when he speaks.

"Come in."

A well-dressed woman steps into the room, not looking at anyone in it but Villa. She hands him a white envelope and he waves it toward Fernando, the sound of his zipper unmistakeable. She sighs and turns to Fernando, obviously a bit disgusted by his presence but he ignores her the second the envelope is in his hands. He folds it in half and shoves it into his pocket, snatching the loose cash from the table and pocketing it as well. Sergio is on his feet suddenly, his voice commanding and almost making Fernando jump.

"We're leaving. Right now."

Iker doesn't hesitate before standing, wiping his mouth on his linen and turning to face Silva as Julia leaves without another word.

"I'm... I'm..."

"Just." Silva lifts a hand to stop him, his jaw set and he's looking straight at Villa who is looking back at him like a dangerous thing. Iker shakes his head a little, feeling tired suddenly and he wraps an arm around Sergio only to have it shoved off. Sergio heads to the door first and alone, opening it without a backward glance. Fernando follows and finally Iker, the three of them walking wordlessly through the posh restaurant, Fernando and Iker a bit afraid of Sergio at the moment.

They don't speak until they're outside on the street and he won't look up at them, his eyes travel the street behind them, taking in the people, the signs, the stores. His voice is still strong but somehow shaking.

"We're getting a hotel tonight."

Iker and Fernando wordlessly agree.

 

\--

 

Sergio's teeth tear into the side of his finger and he peels away dead skin, spitting it out over the edge of the balcony. He stares out at New York City and he hates that he has to blink at all, hates that he can't just stare and stare at it without missing a single second. Even the air smells different, it smells like knowledge, like stories, like all the colors in the world coming together until they make the grey of the streets and the blue black of the buildings and the glittering white of the millions and millions of lights of all the people out there, people he doesn't know but needs to, people that he wants to see and touch and speak to. He ashes his cigarette over the side of the building and he can hear Iker's voice coming through the glass door and it's a comforting sound, so comforting that Sergio almost relaxes for a moment. He takes another drag from his cigarette and taps his pen against the scribble-filled page in his journal, the ink still wet on some of the words, on the particularly thick curves of his handwriting.

_i ache._

He flinches when the door slides open and he grits his teeth hard. The overwhelming smell of pizza feels his nostrils and he's starving suddenly. A plate of three slices of hot cheese pizza appears beside him as if by magic and then he sees Fernando's bare knee, knowing it is Fernando's only because he knows it's not Iker's. He glances up at him out of curiosity and finds him in a pair of dark boxer shorts and a white wifebeater. He meets Fernando's eyes, the question clear. Fernando gives him a shy smile.

"Old Navy next door. I got you the same pajamas. Your shorts are red, is that okay?"

Sergio looks away again, ignoring the pizza though his stomach growls. He slaps his journal closed and caps the pen, tucking it inside of it. Fernando hovers nervously on his haunches before sinking to his knees beside him, the hard concrete digging into his bony knees but he ignores it.

"You hungry? Pizza's so good. Made by real Italians." He pushes the plate toward him and Sergio's eyes don't leave the skyline though it blurs in his vision. Fernando sighs and shifts again, this time to sit. He slouches beside Sergio and they sit quietly for a long time, Sergio staring straight ahead and Fernando rubbing the fabric of his new shorts over and over again between his fingers, both of them absorbing the sounds of the city below, the hum of voices, the honk of horns and the slicing sound of cars driving on rainy roads, the smell of the rain strong, summer rain cooling off a scorching city. Fernando looks over at him again and he can't help but think to himself for probably the dozenth time how beautiful Sergio is.

"You mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Sergio's reply is immediate and cold, nothing like him at all. He clenches his jaw again and he realizes that he has a killer headache. He stops clenching and chews on the inside of his lip instead. His eyes film over with even more tears and he hates himself for them. Fernando shrugs, shoulders drawing in even more. He may be an idiot but he's a sensitive idiot, sensing every one of the emotions Sergio is feeling, or at least most of them.

"Cause-a what I did."

"What did you do?" He looks over at Fernando finally, eyebrows raised expectantly. Fernando, sensing his chance at redemption here, steps directly and knowingly into the line of fire.

"I sucked that guy's dick. But... I did it for us. You know? I know how bad we needed that money. I know it was the only way we was gonna get it. It's my fault we're even in this fuckin' mess anyway. I gotta be the one to fix it." He sounds small then, almost fragile. Sergio studies him, watches the way he stares down at his toes, the way he runs his nail over his toenails, scratches at his ankle, digs at an old scar. His heart feels hot with pain.

"You aren't supposed to do that." he whispers, his voice trembling and Fernando looks up at him, eyebrows drawn in question. Sergio's chin wants to tremble and he grits his teeth even harder to keep it from doing it. "I can't stand you doing that. I don't ever want you doing that again."

"Why?" Fernando's voice cracks and he moves closer to him and their hands find each other's bodies cautiously, tugging on shirts and catching on forearms and their faces ghost but their eyes don't meet and their small chests rise and fall with held-in sobs. "Why?"

"Because you're supposed to be mine." Sergio finally looks up at him and his hands are shaking badly now and he can't touch him enough, can't pull him close enough. Fernando pins him back against the wrought-iron of the railing and burrows in against him, hiding his face in Sergio's chest and when he sobs it's barely heard. Sergio wraps his arms around him and digs his face into Fernando's damp, clean hair and they clutch at each other, trying to push as close as they can and Sergio can feel his ribs bending from the force of Fernando's body, can feel how hard it is to breathe but it feels so good, it feels desperately perfect and it eases the ache in him, the one that settles in low in his stomach when he's scared, when he feels alone.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just wanna make it right, Magic. I just wanted to fix all this."

Sergio's hands find Fernando's face and his palms feel damp with his tears as he pulls his face up. Their eyes meet and they glitter in the darkness, large and wet and they kiss like they're starving for it, like they've been wanting it and thinking about it. A car alarm shrieks alive down below them and they both jump and break away, gasping as they look over the railing. Fernando looks back up at him and Sergio gives him an encouraging smile, pressing a kiss to the piercing in each of his cheeks and his nose drags gently over his freckles and he can swear he feels their warmth. Fernando twists his fingers gently into the strips of fabric in Sergio's hair, stroking them and almost petting them, his eyes lifted to watch Sergio from this close distance.

"Will you eat the pizza? Please? Iker told me you liked cheese pizza best. I told 'em extra cheese."

Sergio laughs gently and he pulls back to wipe his face on his shoulder. He kisses Fernando's mouth one last time and he smiles at him again.

"Let's go in and eat."

 

\--

 

Iker stares at the bed across from him and wishes that they had gotten two full beds instead of queen-sized because his bed feels decidedly too big. He has to admit that Fernando and Sergio looks beautiful together over there, both clean and still a little damp from showers, long limbs wrapped around each other, both tan but one gold and one olive. He can just barely see Fernando at all from the way Sergio has him tucked up against his body but the white-blonde hair draped over Sergio's on their shared pillow tells him just how they're laying. He can hear Fernando's signature snore and he watches the way Sergio's body moves as he breathes, the motion magnified because of his new, white (tight) wifebeater.

"Iker?"

Iker jumps, completely startled and his blood runs cold for a split second before he regains his senses. He grunts a reply to Sergio, having to at least feign for being asleep.

"Come hold me?"

Iker stays silent for what feels like forever, trying to sort through all the emotions that burst forward immediately, all the thoughts, all the questions. He lifts up without a word and crosses the room to Fernando and Sergio's bed, able to see them clearly in the light coming from the balcony. He stares at Sergio's curled body and his arms ache for him. He lies down awkwardly but situates himself quickly enough, tucking himself up behind Sergio, knees behind his knees, strong chest to his small back. He wraps his arms around him, only able to hold him by partially holding Fernando, too who is turned in toward Sergio, face tucked into Sergio's neck, arms curled up between their bodies. They lie still, listening to their unmatched breathing and Iker is breathing Sergio in and he pushes his nose into his hair and holds him so tight and Sergio finally relaxes, feeling safe at last with Iker closer. He falls asleep feeling both Fernando and Iker breathing against his skin and he sleeps so hard he doesn't even dream.


	9. Chapter 9

"Gimme some more ketchup?"

Sergio passes Iker the ketchup with a smile and Iker takes it with a grunt of thanks, giving Sergio a wink and a smile and dumping out ketchup on his plate. He glances over beside Sergio and watches Fernando eat for awhile like he always does, just for pure amusement. This time he's eating a plate of macaroni and cheese that he claimed upon first bite was "perfect" and that is oozing with cheese and baked like macaroni and cheese should be and he's switching between that and a plate of mashed potatoes, his cheeks already stuffed full each time he lifts his fork to his mouth. He blinks up at Iker self-consciously and swallows down a majority of what he's chewing on, grabbing his glass of Sprite and sucking some down.

"What?"

Iker shakes his head and smiles down at his meatloaf, shifting in his chair as he cuts an edge off of it. A bell rings as the door to the tiny restaurant opens and a new wave of heat pours in, filling the small building and forcing the noisy ceiling fans to work even harder. Sergio glances up at the man that had entered but looks immediately back at his spaghetti, turning his fork over and over and over to gather as much as he can on it. Fernando looks up as well but his eyes stay on the man, admiring his bare, tanned arms in his sleeveless shirt, the low set of his jeans, the sweat covering him. He sets his motorcycle helmet down on the counter and the waitress pours him a glass of ice water almost immediately. When the man gets up and heads toward them, Sergio shifts nervously, his head definitely down but Fernando meets the man's eyes, a split second glance from him and Fernando's got him in his gaze and he gives him the barest hint of a smile. The man smiles, a flash of white teeth on a handsome face and he lifts his eyes to the bathroom and the meeting has been arranged without Iker and Sergio even knowing. The bathroom door whispers closed behind the man and Fernando clears his throat, returning his attention back to his food hungrily. Iker gulps down the last of his milk and covers his mouth to burp politely. Sergio silently finds it charming.

"He's a farmer," Iker offers, buttering his roll and tearing a piece off and licking it onto his mouth, pointing with his fork toward the bathroom. Sergio just nods and Fernando looks up at Iker.

"Makes you say that?"

"His hands. They're rough like a farmer's. Not like a construction worker or a mechanic. It's a different kind of rough. He's strong in a certain way."

Sergio does look up then, wiping his mouth on his napkin.

"Like you were. Right?"

Iker nods, a little ashamed to admit that but Fernando doesn't make fun of him so he dares to venture on. "Daddy died when I was eleven years old. I was the oldest, you know? From then on, I was the man of the house. Had to take care of Mama and of Ronnie and Angel. Farms aren't a joke, you know? It was hard work, but it doesn't pay off. Not anymore. I had to do something else. I had to figure out another way to help them."

Fernando sets his fork down, drinking the rest of his Sprite.

"What are you doing right now?"

Iker's face darkens but he doesn't glare at Fernando. He swirls his glass in his hand and watches the ice, jaw set.

"Nothin'. Not a goddamned thing."

Fernando gives him a grin.

"Maybe we'll make it big somehow. Start a travelin' band. Magic's got his guitar, he told me that you play harmonica cause you got a boner for Bob Dylan, and--"

"That's _not_ why I play the harmonica!"

Sergio looks sheepish and shrinks down in his seat, cutting diligently into a meatball to avoid looking at Iker.

"Well, anyways, I can sing! I'm a crooner." Fernando rests a hand dramatically on his chest, flutters his eyelashes. "Like Frank Sinatra."

Iker snorts.

"Like a fuckin' cat in heat maybe."

Fernando kicks at Iker's feet and Iker kicks back with a laugh, setting back to give the waitress room to refill their glasses. Fernando stands up then, wiping his hands on the front of his pants and belching loudly.

"Gotta piss. Don't eat my mac and cheese, asswipe."

"You got five minutes or it's in my stomach."

"If ya do, your balls'll be in my pocket!"

They glare at each other through grins and flip each other off (eerily) at the exact same time. Fernando slinks toward the bathroom and Iker nudges Sergio's knee under the table with his own.

"I don't have a boner for Bob Dylan."

"I didn't say it like that! I said you admired him."

"That's not why I play the harmonica though."

"Why do you play?" Sergio's voice is soft like it used to get when they would lie around Iker's livingroom next to the window air-conditioning unit, Sergio's head on Iker's stomach, Iker's fingers in Sergio's hair and by the end of it, their throats would hurt from talking so much. Iker smiles for the familiarity and Sergio smiles right back.

"Guy I used to work with taught me. He taught me lotsa stuff."

Sergio leans even closer, voice even softer.

"Like what?"

Iker raises his eyebrows at him and his smile is a little pained. He looks back at his food and carefully cuts it up, just something to do.

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yeah." The implications were there and Sergio's heart skips just for the thought. He'd never heard this story.

"Where is he now?"

"Still helpin' out on the farm. He promised me he'd take care of it, of Mama and them. So I could go to school. I owe him a lot."

"You'll pay him back. You will."

Iker swallows hard and he still can't bring himself to look up at Sergio, at the earnestness in his eyes. He clears his throat and glances back toward the bathroom.

"Wonder where he is. Doesn't take that long to piss, I don't care how many gallons of Sprite he's had."

"Dunno." Sergio licks his fingers clean of garlic butter and pushes a piece of garlic bread through the last of his spaghetti sauce with his fork. Iker taps his fork against the side of his plate while he thought about it and suddenly his eyes widen, teeth gritting. He drops his fork with a clatter and wipes his hands on his napkin.

"Hey, darlin', get us some go boxes and go pay the check, will you? We should be hitting the road soon. Need to make up a lot of lost time. I'll go gather him up and we'll meet you at the car." Iker sounds terribly persuasive and Sergio wouldn't have been able to argue with him even if he'd wanted to. He simply nods and pulls out the wad of money Fernando had entrusted him with from his pocket and holds it in his fist.

"I will. Promise."

"Thank you." Iker leans down and kisses Sergio's forehead and Sergio feels like he's done everything right in the world. Iker's smile stays until he's turned and walking to the bathroom and he immediately looks ominous, eyes flashing, his pace telling of his anger. He shoves the bathroom door open so hard it hits the back of the wall and he hears a soft, strangling sound coming from one of the stalls, just barely heard over the constant drip of the faucet. He walks right up to the stall and slams his fist against the door twice as hard as he can. There's a struggle and a scuffle and he hears the deep sound of a man clearing his throat.

"Somebody's in here."

"Yeah, you're right. And I want him out of there in two fucking seconds or I'm coming in after him."

"Get the fuck outta here, buddy. This ain't none of your damn business."

"The fuck it's not my business! Not my..." Iker looks down at the lock and he brings his foot up and kicks that spot cleanly, sending the door flying open in toward the occupants of the stall and he sees Fernando there on his knees, spit trailing fresh from his bruised mouth and the man's dick out of his pants, rock hard and red and vulgar and Iker growls deep in his throat, standing straight up to the man and may be an inch shorter than him but he looks scary enough for the man to back up a step. Fernando pushes himself into the corner next to the toilet and wipes his mouth, eyes huge with confusion and blind fear. Iker grabs the man by the collar and jerks him forward. "Do you have any idea how old he is? Do you have any fucking clue?"

"He said it was fine! He said he was old enough! I'm payin' him thirty bucks, ain't nobody gettin' used here!" The man tries to shove away from Iker, to back out of the stall but Iker shoves him against the wall of the stall, pushing himself up to be just as tall as him so he can get in his face.

"What's your name?"

The man looks angry now and he is seething for being manhandled by a guy in a faded Abercrombie shirt. He sneers at Iker.

"Frank."

"Frank, I just want you to know that this is a 17-year-old kid and that I could have you fucking arrested right now. I also want you to know that paying an underage child to suck your pathetic dick is illegal, too." Iker lifts his fist and punches Frank in the face with no hesitation and he shoves him back out of the bathroom stall and onto his ass on the tiles and he moves to stand between him and Fernando, completely blocking him from his view. Fernando is on his feet but making himself as small as he can behind Iker. "I _also_ want you to know that if you even look at him again, I'm going to be breaking more than your fucking nose."

Frank scrambles to stand up, pushing his way up the wall to stand up and he's touching his nose gingerly, wiping the blood off on his shirt. He starts back toward Iker but Iker is faster, challenging him even more, chest out, fists clenched. Frank scoffs at him and wipes more blood on his shirt, glares at him.

"He wasn't even that good. Not worth this bullshit."

Iker feels Fernando at his back immediately, shoving at Iker but unable to move him.

"Hey, fuck off! Your crotch smells like cabbage!"

Frank slams his fist into the wall before storming out of the bathroom, the door closing with a bang and Iker and Fernando are alone, the sound of their breath loud in the little stall. Iker turns to face him and Fernando gives him a cocky grin, pushing a hand up into the mess of his mohawk.

"Man, fuck that guy, he wasn't even--"

"Shut the fuck up." Iker grabs Fernando by his shirt and throws him against the wall, the stall rattling with the motion. He keeps ahold of him with one hand and slams and locks the stall door with the other, enclosing them and Fernando's eyes are fluttering with fear. Iker pushes in close to him, their hips coming into sharp contact and when they gasp it's against each other's mouths. "Why did you do it? You don't need the money. You had no fucking reason to do that."

"He wanted me." Fernando's voice is shaky but honest and he's staring up into Iker's eyes, absolutely daring him to say anything, do anything.

"Is that all it takes? Someone wanting you? Is that what gets you off? Because I've got a secret for you." Iker crushes Fernando's mouth against his own, lifting him up off the ground by his shirt to make their mouths even. They feed from each other for a long moment, biting and licking at tongues and Fernando pushes a hand between them and cups Iker's dick in his pants and he moans the same second Iker does. He pulls away to heave hot breath across Iker's face, gnawing on his own bottom lip as he runs his hands up and down the length of Iker's dick where it's swelling against his thigh, trapped firmly by denim.

"I knew you'd have a big cock. I heard it by how you made Sergio come, I could just tell how far up in him you went." He hisses when Iker bites at his neck, sucks a mark into his skin and he reaches down with his free hand to push at Iker's zipper. "Are you gonna fuck me with it? Want me to beg for it? Cause I will."

Iker doesn't answer because they both look down when Fernando pulls Iker's cock out, they both stare down at how full and pink it is in his golden hand, how fat the head. Fernando pushes up the front of his own shirt and leans back against the wall and slaps Iker's cock against his stomach, his head lulling back against the cool metal and Iker's knees quake and he pulls back from him almost immediately, tearing his dick from that hand that seems to know him too well, too easily. He grabs ahold of Fernando's wrists and hauls them up against the wall after turning Fernando to face it, forcing his fingers to hook over the top of it so that he's stretched out against it. He shoves Fernando's shirt up to see his thin back and he runs his cock over the dip in the small of it and Fernando buries his face against the cool metal and pants. He feels his back being shoved into a hard arch and his fingers curl over the wall and he keeps his body in a curl as he's stripped of his pants, leaving his legs spread open wide and he hears Iker spit and then after several beats feels the head of his slick cock pushing needy and impatient between his cheeks. Iker's body presses in suffocatingly close to his own and his chest is scorching against Fernando's back, his mouth almost unbearable against his ear.

"You're fucking nasty. A cheap slut, you don't even deserve to be called a whore. Shovin' that ass back on me like you're starving." Iker grips Fernando's hips, his fingers cruel and bruising and he refuses to let him out of that tight arch as he digs his cock up into him, finding it a little easier than when he pushes into Sergio but just as sweet, just as young and eager and made to be fucked, maybe even more so. He bites down on Fernando's cheek and leaves a mark and Fernando's face is a picture of pain except for the softness of his mouth, the bright stain of his cheeks that give away just how much he loves this. He bites his way down his neck, marking him as he fucks him open a little bit better, sharp, spreading jabs that force the fight right out of Fernando's body, that make him open up and take him as best as he can, that breaks the resolve of his tight little body and makes him a slave to Iker's hands, to his hips, his cock. He melts his tongue over a particularly deep bitemark and brings it into a wet, full-mouthed kiss. Fernando struggles and Iker is quick to trap his wrists easily in his hand, holding them down against the wall as he pounds him flat against it, one of his knees bent so he can press his foot down on top of the toilet paper dispenser, getting a little more leverage to let go, battering Fernando's ass without a second's hesitation.

"Good it's so good it feels so fuckin' good..." Fernando is panting to himself under his breath, his words stuttered because of the abuse of Iker's body, the cruel snap of his hips. He feels one of Iker's hands shoving against his face, pressing him roughly into the wall and it bruises his cheek but he moans even louder, rendered completely immobile and so he just takes it, grinding shamelessly against the wall, instinctively trying to give into his own dick. He yelps sharply when Iker starts to come, when he pulls out of Fernando's ass and rubs the head frantically over and over Fernando's ass, slapping and rubbing just barely inside of him as he comes and comes, spurting inside of him just as much as he smears it all over his ass, his mouth now sucking on his neck so hard he almost breaks skin, his muscles burning from intense overuse. He rips one of his hands out of Iker's grip and starts to jerk himself off desperately, pink mouth trembling against the wall. "Put it back in just for a minute. Fuck. Just stick it in and let me get off. Please god please."

Iker does as he's told, easing his way back into Fernando's ass and he hisses for how he almost over-feels each inch, for how sensitive his cock is and for how painfully good it feels as Fernando contracts and squeezes around him. He runs his hands up under Fernando's shirt, rubbing his rail-thin chest and his small nipples and Fernando's stomach trembles for the touch and he's moaning continuously now, his hand working like mad on his dick and he fucks back onto Iker's slowly softening cock and he almost immediately comes, his knees giving out from under him but he's still holding on to the top of the wall with one hand and it keeps him from completely collapsing on the floor. Iker gives him a few more thrusts even though the sensations are practically killing him now and he's chewing at Fernando's skin, biting down onto his collarbone and Fernando cannot catch his breath, he can't seem to bring himself down from his climax. Fernando's arm finally gives out and Iker's arms around him support him and they're laying against the wall, Iker's breath scalding his cheek. Fernando pushes back on him weakly, giving his hand a hard shake, sending drops of come all over the floor and he grunts.

"Get off of me. You weigh a fucking ton."

Iker reaches around and squeezes Fernando's dick and Fernando practically screams, shoving Iker back off of him and he turns to face him with a smirking glare.

"Bastard."

Iker wipes his dick off with toilet paper and considerately wipes off Fernando's ass, flushing the paper and they pull up their pants in an almost comfortable silence before Fernando's sarcastic smile returns.

"You must really think you're somethin'. I don't let anybody do bareback. Nobody."

Iker wipes the sweat from his temple with the back of his hand as he looks Fernando up and down, not quite undressing him with his eyes but sizing him up. He raises his eyebrows at him.

"Would you let me do it again?"

Fernando looks immediately defensive and he shoves his fingers up into his hair, fluffing it up indignantly and he shoulders past him to unlock the stall door, opening it up.

"Maybe."

Iker smirks to himself and he watches the swagger of Fernando's hips the whole way out of the bathroom, doesn't look up, in fact, until they're outside of the restaurant and the sun is way too bright and he's squinting to try and find his car. The closer he gets to it, the better he can see Sergio's body small and curled in the backseat. His heart races and he runs the rest of the way to the car, the sobbing shake of Sergio's back unmistakable and terrifying. He pulls the backdoor open and crawls in for him immediately, drawing Sergio's almost lifeless body up toward his own, cradling him against his chest and Sergio clings to him, fingers wrapping around his shirt and he's sobbing against his neck.

"I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry Iker I'm so sorry. I tried. I tried and I'm so sorry."


	10. Chapter 10

"What happened? Tell me what happened." Iker looks Sergio's body over worriedly, checking for broken bones, for bruises. He runs his hand down Sergio's back and his heart jumps when Sergio shudders, when he simultaneously pushes closer to Iker and tries to shy away from his hands. Sergio shakes his head and sniffles softly, burrowing the sound into the safety of Iker's neck. Fernando, after hovering worriedly outside of the car, finally kneels down in the open doorway and strokes the top of Sergio's head, pushing his face in to dig kisses against his sweaty scalp. Sergio pushes away from them both after a long moment and he wipes his eyes, drawing his knees up into the seat, back against the side of the car, head against the window. Two men walk by them, laughing and talking to each other as if the most beautiful boy in all the world wasn't broken just feet from them.

"He took it."

Fernando and Iker blink slowly, trying to process the words but not really wanting to. Iker suddenly feels sick to his stomach.

"Who took what, Sese?"

Sergio starts breathing quickly now, his eyes darting back and forth all over the inside of the car. He digs at his pants, at his belt of coins, at his sleeves.

"The... the farmer. He..." Sergio starts to cry again, tears falling steadily from his eyes and his voice is quivering and it's enough to make Iker's eyes burn. "He came out of the bathroom while I was paying and he looked angry. He said something to me when he went past but I couldn't hear him. A-and I went outside, you know? To wait for you guys. And... and... I unlocked the car and set the food down and..." He looks up at them, his eyes dark now, deep with shame, with fear, with something completely foreign to Iker and his heart sinks when he realizes that Sergio is looking straight past him, his eyes locked on Fernando. "He told me he knew I had money, that my 'little friend' had told him so. He told me to give him the money or he'd made me regret it. I told him no. I did, I promise I did. I tried. But he... he found a way. He took it. He took all of it."

They all three sit in silence and it slowly unravels Sergio, making him shove his hands up over his face, nails digging cruel scratches over his cheeks. Fernando and Iker both move for him immediately, both pulling at his hands to make him stop and he sobs so loudly they both jump.

"It's all my fault. It's all my fault. I let you down. You trusted me and I ruined it. You can get rid of me if you want. I deserve it. You can leave me here." He looks up and finds Iker's eyes first and his face crumples and Iker clutches at him, curling down over him and rocking him gently, only slightly annoyed by how Fernando is pressed against his back, by his thin fingers still shaky from sex and how they're petting Sergio anywhere they can reach. Iker pushes his face against the side of Sergio's, his mouth bumping against his ear. His eyes are up, staring murderously outside, obsessed with finding that man, with killing him with his bare hands.

"This is not your fault. I'm not leaving you anywhere. I am not leaving you. I would die protecting you, do you hear me?" Iker's voice is soft against Sergio's ear and he kisses it when Sergio nods. He lifts his head and tightens his arms around Sergio, turning around to meet Fernando's eyes and their expressions match exactly, both regretful, terrified, furious. Expectant. "How much do you have?"

"Thirty. From..." Fernando reaches into his pocket and pulls the money out, handing it over to Iker without question. Iker's mouth is thin and he takes the money, looking down at it like it's poison before pushing it into his backpocket. He looks Fernando over, at the bite marks on his freckled cheek, at the trail of teeth marks all the way down his neck, disappearing under the stretched out collar of his shirt. He sighs, feeling old suddenly, feeling irresponsible and like a criminal himself.

"Let's get going."

Fernando nods and Sergio does gently, easing himself up out of Iker's arms once again and wiping at his eyes. He looks undone, exhausted. Fernando stares at him worriedly, worming his way past Iker to get closer to Sergio and so Iker climbs out of the backseat, hazel eyes surveying the parkinglot, ready in a second's nose to take off running as soon as he sees a motorcycle, a dirty white shirt, a dangerous smile. Fernando wipes at Sergio's eyes, searching them as he helps him out of his clinky belt, out of his layers of shirts until he's bare-chested and Fernando wads all of them up to create a pillow for Sergio to rest his head on, stroking down his hair and his neck and shoulders to his scarred back, tendering the raised scars as Sergio slowly deflates, his eyes almost lifeless as he stares at the back of the seat. Iker opens the driver's side door and sinks into his seat, sighing heavily as he pulls the door closed, the familiar aches from sitting in just this position for so long coming back. Fernando leans down, not to meet Sergio's eyes but to get close enough to whisper.

"What did he do to you?"

Sergio's eyes don't change and he just shakes his head, fingers curling up tight around the shirt his head is resting on. Fernando brings his lips closed on Sergio's forehead, kissing it over and over again as Iker starts up the car, he kisses him until Iker has his seatbelt on and the radio on and he knows he has to move. He crawls over the console and into the passenger seat and Iker doesn't scold him for once. He puts the car into reverse and they drive out slowly, Iker's eyes peeled, staring at each and every person they pass. He's gritting his teeth and he will for the rest of his life associate that particular sensation with the desire for revenge.

The drive through southeast Pennsylvania is beautiful, the landscape pregnant with summer, a green so bright it doesn't seem real. The roads are long stretches, dividing up green fields, dotted by the occasional sound of rushing water from a nearby creek. Fernando spends at least an hour turned completely toward the window, his legs curled up in the seat, long, skinny arms folded on the open window, his chin resting on them so he can watch every single thing that passes. He doesn't even try to tame his hair that is being whipped around his face, the sharp but tiny stings as it lands on his cheeks unnoticed. His mind is with the boy in the backseat, the boy who is sleeping heavily and curled up, facing away from them, face buried against the back of the seat. Iker can see how tense Fernando's shoulders are, can sense all the thoughts in his head because they're the ones in his head, too. He looks in the rearview but can only see Sergio's hair lifting in the fast wind, can only see the slight curve of his half-bare hip. He rests his elbow on the windowsill, his hand rubbing his own face slowly, dragging over his scratchy cheeks, over his tight mouth. Fernando sighs suddenly and twists until he's sitting correctly in the seat again though he lifts his feet to rest them on the dashboard. Iker glances over at him but says nothing.

"So, Skynyrd, huh?"

Iker looks over at him, surprised. Fernando is staring straight ahead, at the sky that is turning from a bright, pure blue to the barest hints of yellow, the sunset imminent. He straightens his arm on the windowsill out and uses that hand to hold onto the wheel, turning his body slightly toward Fernando, free hand resting on his thigh.

"Yeah, I like 'em. Guilty pleasure, I guess."

"My Daddy knew one of 'em."

"One of who?"

"The boys in the band. Gary or Barry or somethin' like that. Used to come over and play the guitar from 'Free Bird' a lot."

Iker looks over at him in quick, astounded glances, his fingers dancing on his thigh.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah. He was alright, I guess. A drinker just like the rest of 'em. Used to come over to get his 'shine."

"Moonshine?"

"Yeh. Grandaddy used to have a still on the back of the prop'rty. When he died, my Daddy took over. Started addin' flavors and made a good chunka change from it."

"Is that what he did for a living?"

"Mm-hmm." Fernando gives a humorless breath of laughter, his eyes unfocused in front of him. He glances over at Iker after a minute, offering him a self-depricating smile. "Honorable man, just like your Daddy."

Iker looks over at him from the corners of his eyes and smirks at him, shaking his head a little as "Free Bird" coincidentally started up.

"How'd he die?"

Fernando frowns then, long legs shifting on the dash.

"Gunshot."

"Whose gun?"

"His."

"Where?"

Fernando looks over at him fully, his voice matter-of-fact.

"In the head, of course."

"You miss him?"

He snorts then, an ugly sound to match his scowl.

"If I's gonna miss him, I wouldn'a done it."

Iker doesn't look over at him this time, he keeps his eyes straight ahead and only a guitar interrupts the silence. He reaches over and pushes his hand into the back of Fernando's hair, his fingers strong but gentle as he rubs his scalp. Fernando relaxes just a little, his jaw still set, staring straight ahead. They don't speak for a long time, the song coming and going, the wind a constant, moving thing all through the car, through their hair, their thoughts. Iker's hand finally comes to a stop but he keeps it on Fernando's neck, resting there comfortably, just present.

"If you could pick, where would you be right now and what would you be doing? Anything at all."

Fernando's face softens and his tiny smile makes Iker's wrist ache.

"You mean right now? This very minute?"

"Right now."

"Hm." Fernando falls silent in thought, his feet moving back and forth to the jangly guitar coming from the speakers. Iker wants to tell him that he can always tell a Southern boy by the way his feet move to music but he doesn't, doesn't want to disrupt his thoughts. "I wanna be in California. On the beach, in my big fuckin' beach house. I wanna be eatin' the biggest steak they can fit on the biggest grill in the world and lotsa mashed potatoes, with tons of garlic and butter. I want big, big glasses of Sprite and water. Ice cold water, that kinda crunchy ice you can get at Sonic. You know what Sonic is?"

Iker smiles straight ahead and nods. His fingers are petting Fernando's hair now without even realizing it. Fernando nods, satisfied.

"I wanna sit my scrawny ass down on my big ol' couch and play video games all day, all kinds of 'em. And when I get tired of it, I wanna go outside and sleep in my hammock right there on the beach, my private beach. No big-titted bimbos or muscle men on my beach. Just me. And I'll sleep til sun sets and then I'll go inside and there'll be hamburgers! Big, fat ones with lots of ketchup and pickles and cheese and chili cheese fries and some good, cold beer. And then I wanna watch a movie and then maybe get my dick sucked and then I wanna go to bed, in my big, fancy bed with those new blankets, you know the ones? Real soft?"

"Down comforters?"

"Yeah! A down comforter. No, no. Five of 'em. And lotsa pillows. And no fuckin' alarm clock."

"Whose gonna fix all the food and suck your dick?"

Fernando smiles, happy with his imaginary world and amused by Iker's question.

"Dunno. Some pretty boy I hire to take care of me. Or some big, strong man who can do all the repair jobs around the house. With an ass that looks good in tight jeans."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

"I guess I do." He nods decisively, his hand bent at the wrist so he can rest his hand on top of it, staring out the window again. "What about you?"

"Mm." Iker rouses himself from his thoughts, tongue sliding over his lips as he puts some honest thought into this. "I wanna be back home, on my Momma's farm. I wanna get up real early in the morning before everybody else does, right when the sun's just rising and I want to take Amos out for a run."

"Who's Amos?"

"My horse. We'd go out into the hills and he'd drink from the creek and we'd go to the top of the highest hill and watch the sun rise. And we'd come back right when everybody else is getting up and I'd come in and Momma'd have breakfast made, scrambled eggs and grits and biscuits and gravy. Tall glasses of cool, cool milk. Nothing tastes better than fresh, cold milk."

Fernando nods and it's wistful and his eyes are faraway again, his smile a ghost.

"After breakfast I'd go find Angel and she'd probably have some idea of what the day should be like, what she wants to make me do and we'd do that. Playing with dolls or playing house or tea party or gatherin' strawberries or whatever it is she wants. She likes to lay in the grass in the backyard and watch the clouds. We'd argue about which was better to watch, clouds or stars. And she'd find pirate ships and hippo ballerinas in those clouds and maybe we'd fall asleep, right there in the grass. And Momma's voice would wake us up for lunch and we'd have chicken, maybe. Fried chicken with corn and green beans and big ol' slices of tomatoes. And strawberry pie for dessert, strawberries that me an' Angel picked. And then Ronnie'd tell me he wants to go play baseball down at the baseball diamond, and we'd spend the whole afternoon there, just a little game with the town boys and we'd beat the other boys so bad. And we'd come home for dinner, some kinda stew maybe, a good, thick stew with cornbread. And me and Momma would sit out on the porch swing while the sun set, just real quiet, watching Ang and Ron play in the yard. And I'd go to sleep real tired, that kind of tired where you're happy and you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow."

"How old is Angel?"

"She's eleven."

Fernando smiles and it's really nothing but tender.

"A little old to be playing with dolls, don't you think?"

Iker frowns, just a gentle turn down at the corners of his mouth, his foot pressing down on the gas just a little more, pushing them faster against the wind that whips and spins Fernando's bright white hair.

"This is my perfect day."

"I know." Fernando feels bad and he looks away from him, looking back out the window and his shoulders draw in a little. Iker's hand rubs his neck just once and he feels a little better, a little more heartened.

"We'll figure this out. Okay?"

Fernando nods a little and when Iker's hand squeezes softly again, he looks over and meets his eyes with a small smile.

"I know."


	11. Chapter 11

Two hours in rather comfortable silence.

Two hours of Fernando switching CDs (but only Iker's, that was the only rule), two hours of them bantering over this band or that, of the sun setting in a fit of absolute brilliance, two hours of more listening than talking. Fernando put Lynyrd Skynyrd back in before the end. A familiar guitar starts up and he rolls his eyes in dramatic disgust, a scoff leaving his smirking mouth.

"This fuckin' song."

Iker glances over at him with an even harder smirk and turns it up a little, as the vocalist instructed.

"One of my favorites."

"Would be."

Iker moves a little in his seat in what can only be dancing and Fernando sinks down, trying to hide his face.

"Big wheels keep on turnin'! Carryin' me home to see my kin! Singin' songs about the Southland--" Iker's voice is scratchy from misuse and from just plain bad singing and Fernando groans.

"Oh, god, _shut up!_ "

"C'mooon, I know you know this one, good ol' boy. Come on, come on!" Iker reaches up to turn it up as the chorus starts in, raising his voice even higher, bellowing practically. "Well, I heard Mr. Young sing about her! Well, I heard ol' Neil put her down! I hope Neil Young will remember! A Southern man don't need him around anyhow! Sweet home Alabama! Where the skiiies are so blue! Sweet home Aaaalabama! Lord, I'm comin' home to you!"

"The fuck you are. You're stuck in Buttfuck, Pennsylvania!"

"I'm from Georgia anyway, bitch. Don't act like you don't share my sentiment." Iker's voice is extra country and he leans toward Fernando, grinning against his cheek and it makes Fernando smile so hard his face hurts. He reaches over to shove Iker away and they're both obviously getting ready for the chorus again, both of them glancing at each other and licking their lips and tipping their heads to practically scream the chorus.

"SWEET HOME ALABAMA. WHERE THE SKIES'RE SO BLUE. SWEET HOME ALABAMA! LORD, I'M COMIN' HOME TO YOU."

Fernando throws his arms around in his seat, legs thrashing, absolutely gone in his ridiculous dance and he lets out the rowdiest scream Iker had ever heard from him (and the count was impressive in the first place) and Iker can't help but burst out laughing, hands clutching the steering wheel as he leans forward. Fernando shimmies and shakes and continues singing because in reality he knows every goddamn word to this and every other song in Iker's vast collection, his fingers twanging along to a guitar he's not really holding. He practically jumps out of his skin when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and he turns to find Sergio's massive eyes on him, a smile perched on his lips.

"I knew it."

Fernando is blushing furiously and he tries to reach up to turn the music down but Iker swats his hand away. Fernando pushes at his mohawk and gives Sergio his best scoff.

"You knew what, Magic?"

"You're a hillbilly."

"I ain't no hillbilly! I didn't live on no hill! We lived at the bottom of the hill!"

Iker laughs even more, slapping his steering wheel now.

"Then you just a redneck, my darlin', I am so sorry to inform you."

"I AIN'T NO REDNECK!" Fernando's neck is indeed red and he's laughing entirely too much, shoving both of them away (but his hand is gentle on Sergio) and getting back to his song which he turns up to full volume, his foot tapping on the windshield from where it's resting on the dashboard. "SWEET HOME ALABAMA."

Iker and Fernando continue their song (and dance), much to Sergio's amusement and, after it's over, Fernando bails over the console and into the backseat, landing on Sergio with a bright, genuine grin and he finds Sergio's mouth immediately, pushing him back against the seat and licking his way into his mouth. Sergio blinks at him in surprise, kissing him back and his hands are digging up into Fernando's hair before he knows it and he's sucking obediently and gratefully on his insistent tongue and he can feel the outline of Fernando's dick against his thigh. When Fernando pulls away Sergio pants softly, thumbs curling up on Fernando's cheeks and they search each other's eyes, dropping small, lazy kisses in between slow blinks.

"I ain't no redneck."

Sergio grins and Fernando kisses it, growling kittenishly and kissing down Sergio's jaw, nipping at his neck and Sergio is panting and laughing in silence, his chest heaving under Fernando's body.

"What are you, then?" Sergio's eyes are bright with teasing.

Fernando smiles against Sergio's neck and Sergio feels it vividly, so much so that he grins up at the ceiling of the darkening car, fingers tangling in Fernando's hair as he waits for his answer.

"Horny as fuck."

"Yeah?" Sergio is not well-accustomed to flirting but he tries anyway, offering Fernando his most playful smile but Fernando misses it because he's sucking a kiss into Sergio's neck.

"Yeah. I want it. I fucking want it so bad." Fernando curls his body so that he can press his hips to Sergio's and they're both immediately breathless, both wide-eyed and hungry and the kisses aren't playful anymore.

"What do you want?"

"Shit." Fernando drops his head to the hidden safety of Sergio's neck and they grind against each other hungrily, cocks rubbing through too many layers. He reaches down to pull Sergio's legs around his waist. Iker's hands are in a death-grip on the wheel and his eyes dance from the road to the now low-angled mirror and back and forth, his own chest rising and falling entirely too fast. Fernando lets out a full-bodied moan when Sergio arches up into him, making the friction between them unbearably delicious. "Wanna fuck you. Wanna get in and make you scream."

"Mm." Sergio's eyes fall closed as Fernando's hips get rougher and he lets his body be moved by the one on top of him. He's stroking Fernando's hair now, his legs spread and lazy around that scrawny body. "I don't fuck."

Fernando absolutely stops then and Iker has to cover his mouth with his fingers and let out a polite cough to keep from laughing. Fernando pushes himself up onto his hands and blinks down at the dark child under him. "What the fuck do you mean, you don't fuck? I saw you with your cowboy one night, Magic. You were riding him like it was gonna fuckin' cure cancer." He ducks when Iker reaches back to swat at his head.

"Iker and I don't fuck. We make love."

Fernando stares at him and then promptly bursts out laughing.

"You said..!" He collapses down on top of Sergio and buries his face again but this time he is hee-hawing, laughing so hard he's snorting and Sergio is shoving at him, a smile still tickling his face. "Make! Hahahaha! Make love!"

"We do." Sergio's face is smiling but utterly serious and Fernando glances at him for a split second and starts laughing even harder.

"Man! Ain't nobody makes love! That's what grannies do! That's what prudes in cardigans and pincurls do! That's what the fuckin' Brady Bunch does! Ain't nobody--"

"Iker and I. Make. Love." He shoves Fernando up off of him but it's playful and Iker pulls into the parkinglot of a well-lit, friendly (enough) looking diner and he stops the car, stretching and looking back at the scene unfolding in the backseat. Fernando pushes at his hair again, glancing over at Iker in envy and amusement and he tosses his head back.

"Well. _I_ don't make love. I _fuck_."

"Well. You'd better find somebody else to _fuck_. Because I _don't_." Sergio leans forward, hand falling to Fernando's chest and he kisses him deeply, forcing Fernando's mouth open and drawing back the second Fernando's tongue sneaks out. Fernando stares helplessly as Sergio climbs out of the car and he immediately looks up to Iker who shrugs at him, completely of no fucking help. Fernando scowls.

"Asshole."

"You ain't never gonna learn, are you?" Iker reaches back and messes up Fernando's hair and they both bail out of the car at the same time, half-hard and half-amused.

 

\--

 

"Grits! Why's it gotta be so hard to get some grits?!"

"Because we're at a diner in the middle of nowhere?" Iker closes his menu, mind made up. Fernando looks quite beyond exasperated.

"That's _precisely why_ they should have some motherfuckin' grits!"

Iker raises his eyebrows, impressed.

"You said 'precisely.'"

Fernando scowls and grumbles and curls back down over his menu.

"Damnit, we didn't get any silverware." Iker frowns down at the table, his eyes lifting to search for their waitress and he spots her practically running back to the kitchen, so busy that she hasn't even gotten their drink order yet. Iker sighs and stands up. "Be right back."

He makes his way across the diner with small, strained smiles and tiny "excuse me, pardon me, sorry"s but he gets to the hostess station without any real damage. He quirks an expectant eyebrow at the well-dressed man hovering nearby. "Can I have some forks and knives and napkins? Three sets?"

The man returns the raised eyebrow and glances back at the table where Sergio and Fernando are trying not to flirt with each other across the table (but their ghosting feet tell a different story). Iker follows his eyes and when he looks back at him, is even more concerned.

"Are they yours?"

Iker just stares at him for that and then glances back again at Fernando and Sergio, just to make sure they're talking about the same thing.

"Yeah?"

The man nods, bottom lip jutting out, approving.

"Not bad." He offers Iker his hand, manicured and soft and Iker blinks down at it before returning his eyes to the man's face. "Pep."

Iker looks down at his hand again and thinks it over but changes his mind before taking his hand. He grabs a handful of silverware wrapped in napkins from the station and raises them in a sort of salute to Pep.

"Good for you. Bye." He practically scurries back to the table, scooting in next to Sergio and he looks up at Fernando gravely.

"We've gotta get out of this state. Nothin' but a bunch of fucking weirdos."

Sergio has gone back to being quiet, a reminder for all of them of his shaken silence just hours before. Iker wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He glances back over where Pep had been standing and sees him now with two young boys, one absolutely tiny, done up in a shirt so small and fit that it had to be a girl's shirt (if not a little girl's shirt), his massive blue eyes taking in the diner around him, pink bottom lip caught between his gnawing teeth. He can see Pep's possessive hand spread over the boy's waist, fingers digging into his almost visible hipbone. The other boy is a little taller but no thicker, his hair a dark mess on his head, eyes dangerously dark and his face is a mask of boredom, thin arms folded over his chest. Iker looks back to Pep and finds his searing eyes on him and he looks away just as he sees Pep lean over and whisper in the taller boy's ear. Fernando is staring at him incredulously.

"Did you buy drugs from him or somethin'?"

"No! He just accosted me over there. Asked if you two belonged to me. What the fuck does that even mean?"

Fernando smirks and sits back, understanding it now.

"He's a pimp. And he thinks you're ours."

Iker laughs outright, trying not to show how happy the thought made him.

"Dumb bastard. Like anyone would ever pay for you."

Iker's arms are flexed and ready when Fernando punches him.

"Stop talkin' shop for five seconds and help me figure out how we're gonna get out of here without payin'."

"Me?! You're the criminal! You figure it out!"

"You mean you don't got _no_ money?"

"No, you dipshit. I put the last of the money in the gas tank. And got you some Cheetos."

Fernando wiggles down into the seat.

"I fuckin' _love_ me some Cheetos."

"Excuse me?"

Iker looks up mid-laugh for the voice that had interrupted them, his fingers closed around his menu and finds himself face-to-face with the bored boy who had been posing next to Pep. He gives him a quick once-over and his mind regresses about ten years, horny, teenage thoughts whispering in his mind ( _tight little stomach, soft skin, pretty little bulge means pretty little cock, full mouth, Iker, you know how that'd feel, don't you?_ ) but he manages to look equally as bored as the boy had a few minutes ago when he meets his eyes again.

"Yes?"

Sergio frowns up at the boy, turning to face out at the restaurant for the first time since they'd gotten there.

"Are you the waitress? You don't look like her."

The boy frowns right back, sensing competition. He turns his attention back to Iker and cocks his hips out, shirt hitching up just a little to reveal a flash of smooth tummy. Iker watches unabashedly.

"No. I just..." The boy bites on his bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering, playing his part to the hilt. "I was just watching you from over there and I was wondering something."

"Nn?" Iker is chewing on his bottom lip now and he looks up at the boy through his eyelashes, looking dangerously beautiful himself. The boy smiles because he knows he's already won.

"You look really stressed out. I was wondering if you needed a little stress relief. I'm the best in town. No joke."

Sergio actually laughs for that, pushing closer to Iker's back. Fernando is grinning at the boy in pure entertainment. Iker's eyes narrow and almost seem to darken.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hm." The boy slips his hand down to Iker's thigh, giving it a strong squeeze and letting out a little noise of pleasure. Iker's breath is already shallow.

"How much?"

"Fifteen."

"Oh, kid. You gotta up your rates." Fernando shakes his head sadly, tsking to himself.

Iker's teeth rip into his bottom lip and then he's on his feet before he knows it, towering over the boy and he knows in his gut this is about ten different kinds of illegal. God damn tight jeans on even tighter bodies.

"Where?"

The boy dips a finger into Iker's pants and pulls on him.

"Out back."

Iker follows his lead and he almost cringes when he hears Fernando's voice.

"HEY. WE DON'T EVEN GOT NO MONEY FOR GRITS, YOU ASSHOLE."

Iker watches the boy's ass move and his hips twist as he walks and he faintly hears a door opening and then realizes he's outside and then his back is scratching against a brick wall and he's having to look down to find those dark eyes. His body jerks and moves as his pants are undone.

"What's your name?"

"Party." The boy tugs Iker's pants down his hips and reaches into his underwear to pull his cock out, jerking him off slowly in one hand as he pulls his underwear down, too. "Mm. Nice cock."

Iker sucks in thick gulps of air, teeth gritting for the expert grip, for the fingers circled and working the head of his dick. He watches as the boy licks his mouth over and over, watches as that bottom lip catches a few drops of liquid dripping from his cock. "That's not your fucking name. What's your real name?"

"How about..." He wraps his mouth around Iker's cock and sucks fiercely, pulling it out of his mouth with a loud pop and Iker groans, body collapsing back against the wall. "If it takes you more than a minute to come, I'll tell you."

Iker opens his mouth to snark out his retort but he gasps when he feels his cock engulfed again, when he feels thin fingers circling his wrists to bring his hands to rest in the boy's hair and he grips it immediately, anchoring himself down to fuck up into his mouth. His eyes fall closed and his head falls back against the wall.

"Fuck. Deal."

His knees almost give out when his entire world wavers, when he realizes that fucking boy is trying to suck his soul out through the slit in his cock and he can do absolutely nothing but thrust forward with even more force, his fingers wrapped fiercely tight in that thick black hair and he hisses through his teeth, forcing himself not to come. He lets the boy up when he shoves back on his hands and he hears him gasp so he opens his eyes to look down at him, to watch him try and catch his breath as he jerks him off, thick spit falling from his open mouth. Iker's heart is pounding in his ears but he thinks he speaks out loud.

"Thirty seconds."

The boy smirks at him and his mouth is open ridiculously wide and he's swallowing Iker down again, shoving his nose against Iker's burning stomach and they both moan and Iker can feel it vibrate in his toes and he practically screams, forcing the boy to hold him down his throat and the fast tightening there is about to make him faint. He fucks and fucks his mouth and the sopping sound of the boy's helpless throat and his pitiful, boyish moans are the only things that let Iker know that he's still awake.

"Fi-fifteen." Iker's voice sounds weak and his fingers are spread across the sweaty nape of the boy's neck and his hips are snapping forward like they're possessed and the boy is coughing softly around his cock, weak hands clasping Iker's thighs and trying to push him away but Iker refuses him, just keeps thrusting and his mind is flashing numbers like it's New Years, five, four, three--

" _Two_." He rips the boy off of his cock and he watches him cough and spit and gasp and he plunges back into his mouth way too soon, forcing his way into his tightness again and the boy moans deeply, fingers digging into the back of Iker's thighs, nails cutting. "One."

He forces as deep as he can for just a second later to make sure they both know that he won and then he's coming so hard his legs buckle, knees giving out and his hips slide forward and he can vaguely feel the delicious swallow around his cock and can hear the strained cry and he lets him go finally, his eyes closed so he doesn't see how the boy sinks back onto his haunches, his mouth dripping and he's licking his lips and trying to catch his breath, his eyes trained on Iker and he's glaring.

"Asshole. A second later shouldn't count."

"What's your name?"

The boy stands up, making a show out of spitting the rest of the contents of his mouth onto the dirty ground and he folds his arms over his chest as Iker tucks himself back in, fastens his fly.

"Cesc."

"Well, Cesc." Iker's nostrils are still flared because he can't quite catch his breath and his hand trembles as it comes to rest on Cesc's cheek. "You sure know how to suck cock."

Cesc rolls his eyes and smacks Iker's hand away, lifting his own, palm up, waiting.

"Fifteen."

Iker just blinks at him, his guilty written all over his face and Cesc glares wholeheartedly now.

"Oh, no. No the fuck... you don't have any fucking money!? What kind of worthless frat guy are you?!"

"I'm not a fucking frat guy! Why the fuck does everybody--"

"What the fuck am I going to do!? Pep is going to _kill me_ and he doesn't make Bojan do blowjobs anymore because his mouth is just 'too fucking precious' so this is my bread and butter, you asshole!" He shoves his hands into Iker's chest and is honestly surprised by how solid it is. Iker catches his wrists and pushes him back.

"Go tell him I pussyed out and left! He won't know!"

"Are you kidding me!? He knows how I look after I suck cock!"

Iker can't help but grin.

"So do I."

Cesc growls and punches him in the stomach, hard.

"You're fixing this. You're dealing with Pep. Not me."

The door opens and light floods their shadowed little area and Iker actually gasps, reaching to wrap his hand around Cesc's forearm and he jerks him away from the wall and starts to run toward the car, digging in his pocket for his keys. Cesc jerks and pulls against him, his voice growing more frantic by the second.

"Where the fuck do you think you're taking me?! You go deal with this!"

"Fábregas! Get back here. _Right. Now._ " Pep's voice is like a sonic boom and it startles Cesc so much that he feels like throwing up.

"LET ME GO."

They reach the car and Iker's already unlocked it and he reaches in and lays his hand on the horn, blowing it desperately and he sees a dark and a blonde head shoot up inside the diner and then a flurry of movement. Iker shoves Cesc in to the car and he piles in beside him and Cesc is forced to find the passenger's seat. Iker starts the car and peels toward the entrance of the diner and he can hear Pep's angry voice, can hear his fists slamming into the back of his car. All of a sudden there is the ironically blessed sound of Fernando's yelping voice and the bright white of Sergio's scared eyes and his boys are in the backseat and he's tearing out of the parkinglot, reaching across Cesc to slam down the lock and Cesc's nails are clawing at his arm.

"You fucking asshole! What the fuck do you think you're doing!? You can't kidnap me! He'll kill you! He'll kill _me_!"

"Stop it!" Sergio throws himself between Cesc and Iker and he rips Cesc's hands off of Iker and takes the claws himself. "Calm down!"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, you bastard! Do you have any idea who you're fucking with!?"

"The pimp of a whore in a shitty diner in the middle of nowhere. Trust me. I've dealt with worse." Fernando sounds absolutely calm and the surprise of it makes everyone else calm down. Cesc looks back at him, his eyes wide.

"What happens when he catches me though?"

Fernando shrugs.

"He won't."

Cesc pants a little, actually thinking about it. He turns around in his seat and stares straight ahead at the whizz of headlights flying past them.

"Oh."

"Iker. This is ridiculous. This is... this is suicide. Now we've kidnapped an underaged whore? Do you realize what you've done?" Sergio is pleading with Iker as best as he knows how, his hand gripping his shirt desperately. Iker feels nauseous and he keeps wiping his mouth over and over and over.

"Hey. Don't you call me a whore. I'm a stress reliever." Cesc looks indignant and he makes his face emotionless as he stares out the window.

Sergio scowls at the back of his head and Fernando can't help but look over at him worriedly.

"Whore."

"Hey." Cesc turns around and his eyes are like daggers on Sergio and Sergio's bottom lip is trembling in helpless fury. "Just because you never thought to charge doesn't make _me_ a bad person. I'm just smarter."

"Do you really think you're smarter than me?"

"Hey, hey!" Fernando's voice is a bark that slices straight to Iker's eardrum. "You mean _more_ smarter."

"Oh, jesus christ. Oh, fuck." Iker digs his fingers against his lips, his head throbbing behind his eyes. "What the fuck did I just do?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Holy fuck, it's so _hot_ back here." Fernando writhes around on the mattress, completely stripped except for his underwear and this time, it's not to try and entice Sergio. He groans after mere seconds of silence and turns over onto his belly and worms his way closer to the driver's seat and therefore Iker. "Daddyyy. It's hoooot."

Iker snorts and rolls his eyes and he glances back to look at Fernando who is now kneeling pitifully on the mattress just behind his seat, his mohawk for once completely lifeless, sweat glinting at his temple and down his neck and chest. Iker forces himself to look away and he grips the wheel harder.

"What do you expect me to do about it? Cut a hole in the wall back there?"

Fernando whines and he pushes closer and rests his forehead on Iker's shoulder and Iker has to admit that he melts a little inside. He sighs and drops the back of his head against the top of Fernando's, his eyes dropped so he can still watch the road (though not safely).

"I'm bored."

Iker laughs and lifts his head again, turning his windshield wipers up higher as the rain intensifies and he rubs at his eyes, so, so tired of driving but christ, they have so far to go, they're only now through DC and just now into Virginia, no specific route in mind but he knows what his hands are doing, what his fingers are doing when he takes certain exits. He knows where he will end up and he will not let himself think about it. Not yet.

"I thought you said you were hot, kid?"

"Come lay with me. 'M bored and Magic 'n' the new kid are dead asleep. It'll be good for you, c'mon. Pleeeease?"

"Nando, it's only seven. I want to at least get halfway through Virginia before we stop tonight."

"I found some Jolly Ranchers back here! They're cheeerry." Fernando digs his nails into the back of Iker's hair and scratches at his scalp and goddamn, it feels good, it feels good enough to make Iker grunt and to drive shivers up his spine and goosebumps up his arms.

"Ah, stop it! Makin' me get goosebumps. And you'd better not be eating those Jolly Ranchers. They're probably full of crack or something."

"Ooooh." Fernando swivels his head toward the back of the van, deep in thought now and Iker groans dramatically, deciding that here was as good a place as any to take a break. He pulls over next to the small river he's been following, the van squeaking and arguing the whole way but it makes it. He rolls to a stop and turns the van off, whining again because his eyes hurt, his head hurts, his hands hurt, his back hurts. He sighs into his hands and Fernando's pulling at him again, insistent hands and Iker knows better by now than to fight him. He climbs into the back of the van and collapses down on the mattress, his body protesting entirely too much for him to be so young. Cesc and Sergio sleep on, at either side of the mattress from each other and Fernando is kneeling in the center, his eyes bright and on Iker like Iker is a new toy to play with. Iker sprawls out on the mattress and he grunts when Fernando shoves him to turn over, shoves him until Iker is laying on his stomach and Fernando climbs on his back, wrestling with Iker's shirt to push it off and Iker is alarmed at his sudden lack of control over this. He tries to fight back against Fernando but Fernando throws his shirt aside finally and when he plants his hands on Iker's shoulders and squeezes, all the fight leaves Iker's body and he collapses against the mattress, boneless and achy and oh, god.

"Oh, _God_." He closes his eyes and grits his teeth as Fernando's hands pull and push at his tired muscles and he stays tense for at least the first couple of minutes and then he sighs, turning his head this way and that so Fernando can rub his neck and then down his poor back. Fernando smirks to himself as he rubs Iker's arms, tending to muscles that have apparently never been massaged and Iker is full-out moaning now and he nearly sobs when Fernando presses the heels of his hands up Iker's back, popping the bones of his spine and relief floods his body, making him immobile and almost post-orgasmic. Tears sting his eyes and he feels stupid that within ten minutes, he's been undone by some river rat of a boy in his underwear perched on his ass, young, strong hands on his body, turning him to putty. He feels Fernando pulling at him again and this time he doesn't fight as he's turned to lay on his back and Fernando is tucking up into the crook of one arm and his mouth finds Iker's flawlessly, kissing at him with a demanding little mouth.

Iker turns onto his side so that he has a little leverage and he rests a hand on Fernando's cheek to slow him down so that they kiss softly and Fernando feels so suddenly young and small that it breaks Iker's heart. He turns over even more and halfway traps Fernando beneath his body and he slips his tongue into Fernando's mouth as a sort of experiment of tenderness and he literally feels the give in Fernando, the slight submission of his body and he deepens the kiss then, turning them completely over so that he can press him down into the mattress, the rain beating hard overhead as they slide against each other, fingers threaded together high over their heads and hanging over the edge of the mattress, bodies digging in some sort of primal urgency, their mouths in a silken war. Fernando pulls his mouth away suddenly and pants against Iker's ear, his fingers tightening between Iker's, nails digging between his knuckles.

"Harder."

Iker rubs down against him with his full body weight, moving faster because Fernando's breath against his ear is deafening and gorgeous and he feels his body tense and his breath get caught in his throat as he comes and Iker shivers for the jolt and quake of his body, he kisses down Fernando's neck very gently until Fernando is nuzzling him like a sweaty, spent little kitten, his fingers rubbing the back of Iker's hands and their mouths meet again in smiles and they kiss one last time, lightly.

"That was incredibly easy. You weren't bored, you were just hard up."

Fernando grins and it's almost shy and it makes Iker grin from ear to ear.

"Sergio is killing me."

He shoves Iker off of him gently and Iker falls to the side, jostling Cesc a little but Cesc just grumbles and squishes harder against the side of the van. They turn in to face each other and Iker strokes Fernando's sweaty hair off his face.

"You can't treat him like you have everyone else. He's different."

"I _know_ that. I mean." Fernando sighs and it's through his nostrils and rather adorable frustration. "I can tell that. I just... I don't know what to do about that! I ain't never been with nobody special! The specialest I ever got was a girl back in Texas with six fingers on each hand!"

Iker laughs and Fernando gives him a wry grin but his eyes are wide, pleading. Iker tucks his hair back and then works on the hair at the back of Fernando's neck.

"Treat him like you would if you... like you actually got the one thing you always wanted for Christmas."

Fernando nods slowly, the analogy perfect for him, for a poor kid who never got nothin'.

"Like the most precious thing I ever got."

"And like you need to always keep it safe and make sure it doesn't get broken or scratched up or lost. Keep it in your safest place. That's Sergio."

Fernando searches Iker's eyes in silence, his mouth drawn into a frown as he thinks. And then,

"Do you think he could ever love me?"

Iker feels his chest tighten and he can hear Sergio breathing behind him and he feels absolutely frantic for him suddenly. His hand is paused on Fernando's cheek and Fernando sees the torment in his eyes because he pushes close to him suddenly, tucking in against his chest and hiding from Iker's eyes.

"It's okay. I don't blame him. I wouldn't love me neither."

"No." Iker's voice is firm and he wraps his arms around Fernando, crushing him against himself and he aches, he just fucking aches. "No, that's not what I meant. Of course he could love you. Fuck, he already does. It just hurts sometimes, I guess."

Fernando is quiet and his eyes are wet and his face is against Iker's chest and he has never felt arms around him like this before, never felt safe in this particular way.

"Cause you love him, too?"

Iker draws in a long breath and he sighs and it's such a powerful sound that it drowns out the rain for a minute.

"Yeah. Yeah, I love him, too. It makes me feel... helpless sometimes. And like a teenage girl. Or maybe like I'm a thousand years old and he's what's kept me alive for so long. God. I don't know. I just don't know."

"Do you hate me? For tryin' to make him love me, too?"

"No." Iker smiles and he softens his arms so that he can crane down and kiss Fernando's forehead and he keeps his lips there, smiling against his skin. "I don't blame you for that at all."

"I ain't never been a boyfriend before."

Iker smiles even more and he gives Fernando a squeeze that's ticklish somehow and makes Fernando wriggle in his arms.

"Are you gonna ask him to go see a movie? Hold his hand during the scary parts? Try to cop a feel in the car in front of house?"

Iker grunts as Fernando tickles him in the tight trap of their bodies and they both laugh.

"I might show him a puppet show with a coupla my socks and take him out to the crick so he can go swimmin' cause that's all he's talked about today. And then maybe I'd ask him to let me look at him under the stars again cause he was so..." Fernando trails off again and he fights with himself for a minute, clearly tormented by words and Iker holds him tighter. " _Beautiful_ the other night, next to that fire, under all those stars. Do you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean." Iker is solemn and he smiles because he can feel Sergio's breath on his neck and it's changed. He's awake.

"It's like he was a part of all of it, like he was the thing that brought all of it together or somethin' and I was just lucky to be there, I guess. Lucky he let me just lay down next to him and hold him and kiss him."

Sergio shifts behind him and Iker turns to lay on his back, exposing Fernando for Sergio who is moving over Iker almost like he's not there but in the end Sergio curls up with his back to Iker so that he can get to Fernando, he curls up between the two of them and wraps his arms around Fernando's neck and kisses him. Fernando's face is absolutely on fire but he pulls Sergio to him in so much earnestness and he actually moans, a vulnerable, soft sound and Iker wraps his arms around Sergio's stomach, pushing his face against his neck and just listening to them, to their soft, wet mouths and damp skin, just feeling Sergio breathe and feeling Fernando's hands grapple on his dark skin, trying to hold onto any part of him. Iker kisses at Sergio's neck and Sergio is almost quaking between them, so shy with what he wants and both Iker and Fernando can feel it but Iker can't bring himself to complete the thought, can't truly imagine it ever happening because it would end him, it would absolutely end him. Iker pulls away and leans up onto his elbow, delving between their warring mouths with his own to lick at their tongues for a second, for a guilty, thrilling second and then he's gone, crawling to the back of the van and opening the door to step out into the blessedly cool air, the wind around him absolutely refreshing and he stands there for just a minute, his eyes closed, head tipped up, letting the rain soak him, letting it wet his glasses, letting it obliterate every single thing else in his mind and the tiredness of his body and he almost sinks down into the wet earth right then, almost curls down to sleep there because it seems like it would be comforting, it seems like as much of a home as he can have right now and those boys, all three of them in that van in there, are tearing him into pieces.

Sergio keeps his eyes open as Fernando kisses at his mouth, as he kisses down Sergio's naked chest. He can't stop touching Fernando's hair, his high cheekbones, the freckles he can feel under his fingertips and his palms, that seem to be making his skin tingle. Fernando kisses at the skin over Sergio's heart, over and over, obsessively and reverently and Sergio curls down over him and sighs, kissing at Fernando's hairline until Fernando's mouth quietens just a little, still kissing but it's softer, fuller-mouthed, wetter.

"Mm." Sergio licks his lips as he listens to the sound of Fernando's and his eyes fall closed finally. He smiles and his arms are wrapped around Fernando's head, holding it close. "What do you feel?"

"I feel..." Fernando licks at the slightly raw skin he's marking now, his hands planted on the small of Sergio's back and he sighs very quietly. "I feel like I ain't never felt before. I feel like maybe I could be somethin' else with you, maybe be somethin' else for you even. I don't know what you done to me but I can't stop thinkin' about you, not even for one second. All I ever wanna do is touch you." Fernando draws in a breath and the air is composed of the scent of Sergio's skin and his heart skips. He kisses that very same skin again and Sergio has to hold back a whimper. "I feel your heart right here under my mouth and I just can't even believe you're lettin' me do this. I can't even believe you ever talked to me or wanted to help me and I most 'specially can't believe that you ever'd wanna care about me maybe."

Sergio dips down until he can find Fernando's mouth again and he's kissing him so gently, his own mouth tender with the need to convey emotion and he knows, he absolutely knows that Fernando can feel it because he's trembling, he's licking into Fernando's mouth and his breath is shuddering on his cheeks.

"I'm lucky to know you, Fernando. I'm supposed to know you."

Fernando lifts his head and his eyes are bright with emotion and he smiles at him.

"You really think so?"

Sergio smiles and they drop their foreheads together, hands settling so that their hearts can start to settle, too.

"I know so."

Cesc sits up and he yawns loudly just in case there was any confusion on the state of his wakefulness. He stretches his arms over his head and grunts when he settles again. He reaches up to scratch at his crazy bed (mattress?) hair and squints out the open backdoors of the van at Iker standing there, completely soaked by rain and now looking in at Cesc because he'd heard him yawn. Cesc hurries to lay back down, to curl up and face Fernando's back (he hates the smell of the corners of the van, the unknown, sticky dirt smell that is not his and so he wants no part of it). He closes his eyes just as Iker's weight enters the van again and Fernando and Sergio are lost in their own world, lost in each other's mouths and limbs. Cesc feels Iker pause and it's a loaded pause, it's one of consideration and his own body is tense waiting for the decision, waiting for the rejection though he's going to fight whatever decision Iker makes anyway. He feels his warmth and then the startling coldness of his clothes and his skin and when Iker's arms wrap around him he shoves weakly against him, grunting in such a way that he sounds sleep-heavy and it just makes Iker hold him tighter which is exactly what he wants.

"Stop it. You're soaking wet."

Iker grunts right back and he nestles his head against Cesc's shoulder and sucks in the smell of him that is so new, that is entirely different than Fernando and most definitely different than Sergio (Fernando is stale cigarettes and motor oil somehow, Sergio is sun-baked warmth and the faint smell of church incense, or of cinnamon maybe). Cesc smells like something intangibly youthful, like grass in the way of grass stains and maybe having to mow the lawn and right there beneath his ear, like lemons, something sticky sweet and heady and something he'd brought from home, something no amount of sweat or soap could wash away. He shoves at Iker again but it's weaker this time and Iker kisses at the lemonade spot, his nose buried and Cesc makes a low, whining sound.

"Now I'm cold."

"No, you're not. Shh, just lay still. You were having nightmares earlier." Iker grins against his skin and squeezes him and Cesc smirks as he pushes against him and it's all just flirtatious now.

"I was not."

"You were, too. And you said 'Oh, Iker, you big strong man, come and hold me and make me feel safe so I can sleep again. You're the only man who makes me feel so good.' I mean, you basically said that. More or less. Maybe with a few more moans."

Cesc laughs outright and he pushes at Iker with his forearms but Iker just pushes him back against the side of the van.

"That is an outright lie. Cause I don't sleep. I physically cannot go to sleep. There's something in my body that doesn't let me sleep. My doctor said I'm lucky if I live past thirty."

Iker just blinks at him in surprise and Sergio sucks softly at Fernando's neck, sensing a blatant lie from a mile away and so he doesn't even react. Fernando squints at Cesc.

"You got a doctor?"

Cesc's eyes widen and he stammers just for a minute before shrugging, fighting again against Iker's grip because it was much easier.

"I'm going to catch pneumonia! You're seriously soaking wet!"

"I bet he tastes good." Fernando waggles his eyebrows at Sergio before turning to face Iker's back, nuzzling up under his hair and licking rain from his neck, finding that he tasted absolutely wonderful, like sweat and summer rain and like the sun and so he smiles and licks again. Sergio leans over Fernando and kisses Iker's bicep, licking at his arm shyly but he's smiling, too, brave enough to be silly when Fernando's around.

"He tastes like summer."

"Yeah, that's it! Exactly, Magic." They grin at each other and keep kissing him, doing it ticklishly enough to make Iker squirm and this time it's him fighting against the bodies of all three boys and Cesc, because Iker doesn't want him to now, is holding on tight.

"You all'd better stop it! I mean it! Shit!" He starts to laugh when Cesc sucks at a strand of his hair, his cheeks on fire and he's helpless surrounded by them, absolutely helpless. "Unless you want me to do something we'd all regret, you better stop!"

Fernando quirks an eyebrow.

"Ooh, like what?"

Iker pushes at them and Fernando and Sergio turn him over until he's on his back and they tuck in against him and against each other, too somehow though Cesc remains curled up against Iker and Iker is holding him as best as he can. Cesc pretends to sigh loudly and he nestles down against Iker's shoulder, his eyes closing again and he's smiling secretly.

"Never you mind that."

"Are you gonna go to sleep, Screech? Dream about fuckin' all three of us on this mattress?"

Iker's face turns a deep shade of red but he closes his eyes, trying to pretend that Fernando's words don't affect him. He strokes the top of Cesc's head and rests his cheek on top of Sergio's, knowing that the arm around his chest is Fernando's because of how skinny it is.

"Dream? That'd be a nightmare."

Fernando smirks to himself but doesn't reply because the rain has started up again and the door is still cracked and letting in a delicious breeze and they're packed together and tired and, somehow, happy.


	13. Chapter 13

Sergio had woken up when the rain stopped. He could hear it slowing to a stop, taking its sweet time. When he inhales it's the full scent of wet dirt and scorching pavement and the sun is already peeking through, already heating the world back up. He shifts against Iker's chest and he immediately feels lips close into a kiss on his forehead, welcoming him from sleep and keeping him where he is. His cheeks flush and he nestles back down into Iker, tipping his head up for another kiss.

"I parked by the river for you." Sergio can feel the rumble of Iker's voice against his cheek. He smiles and lifts his head to find Iker's mouth and they kiss as quietly as they can, wet, soft mouths licking in near silence until their movement wakes up Fernando. Sergio tries to pull away from Iker but Fernando grunts, a sleepy smile digging at the corners of his mouth.

"You can keep goin', Magic. I've gotta nice view here."

Iker's hand closes around the back of Sergio's head as gently as a large hand can to pull him close again and he's wrapping Sergio's mouth up in a deep kiss, perhaps showing off a little, perhaps a bit too hungry for Sergio but some things really just never change and Sergio can't stop blushing for how hard Fernando's eyes are burning on them, for Fernando's hand that is trailing up and down his back. He breaks away from Iker's and licks his lips demurely, trying to ignore the rush of Iker's breath that makes his chest rise and fall so tantalizingly fast, trying to ignore how revealing Fernando's skimpy briefs are being at the moment. Iker kisses his jaw and Fernando kisses his shoulder and he pushes to sit up, his neck and chest burning hot now as well and he misses the quick, understanding glance that passes between Fernando and Iker. Sergio scoots down to the tail of the van and peers outside, eyes tipped up to see the bluing sky.

"It's sunny, Iker. Let's go to the river." He turns to face them and they're still staring at him, their eyes narrowed predatorily and with a healthy dose of lust. His heart races and he shies away from them again by stepping out of the van completely. "Please?"

Fernando follows him after a shove from Iker, a grin plastered to his face. Iker glances over at Cesc who is sleeping so hard he's actually snoring and he smirks as he pushes his glasses up on his nose.

"Psst."

Cesc of course doesn't react but simply squishes down into his makeshift bed, his fingers curled around an old t-shirt of Iker's that is serving as a crappy blanket. Iker smirks and nudges him a little, his eyebrows rising when Cesc doesn't move.

"Hey. Hey! Get up."

"Nnnn."

Cesc frowns in his sleep and shoves at Iker with his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing and he looks nothing but stubborn. Iker finally sets up and kicks at Cesc's legs none to gently, making him whine himself awake and glare up at Iker expectantly.

"What the fuck do you want?!"

"Jesus, calm down. We're going to the river to swim for awhile. Sun's gonna go down within the hour so you'd better get up now." He edges down the van to get to the bottom and therefore the open door, turning to Cesc who is still laying the same spot.

"I don't swim in rivers."

Iker just blinks at him.

"You don't what?"

"I don't swim in rivers! I'm not swimming in fish poop and piss. Are you kidding me!? How is that getting clean? I'm better off rubbing my face in this shirt!"

"So... you're not coming?"

"You don't care anyway. Why the fuck do you keep bothering me?"

Iker stares at him, wounded but more pissed off than anything. He rolls his eyes and he feels all of thirteen as he hauls his ass out of the van, slamming the doors shut and leaving Cesc is suffocating heat. Serves him right. Cesc frowns to himself in the utter darkness of the van now, burning up immediately but he's more stubborn than that and so he stretches out on top of the mattress and forces his eyes closed again.

Fernando grins after Sergio and jogs to catch up with him, seemingly unaware that he's just in his underwear, either that or he just doesn't really care. Sergio smiles over at him as Fernando wraps an arm around his shoulders, slowing their walk to a saunter as they near the river.

"Will you swim with me, Magic? Lemme wash your hair?"

Sergio can't help but laugh as they come to a stop and he dips down out of Fernando's arm to pull his boots off.

"Do we have any soap or anything though?"

"Oh." Fernando clicks his tongue as he stops, looking down at himself and then back at the van just in time to see Iker moodily slam the door. "Hey! Hey, Daddy! Will you get that bar-a soap outta the back pocket of my pants?! Please?!"

Iker narrows his eyes at him but his hand is already on the handle.

"If you'll stop calling me Daddy."

Fernando grins.

"You want me to call you Big Poppa instead?"

Iker looks away before Fernando can see any reaction on his face and he opens the door again, flooding light into the back of the van and Cesc sits up, his entire body a little shiny from sweat and he seems to be panting a bit. Iker grins in at him, his face a mask of innocence.

"Hot?"

Cesc glares and grabs up Iker's shirt and wipes the sweat from his body before throwing it at him.

"Fuck off."

Iker sighs, humoring leaving his face. "Hey, princess, throw me those pants by your head before you have another tantrum, okay?"

"Get them yourself."

"Just fuckin' throw them to me. This conversation could already be over if you'd stop acting like a bitch."

He sees Cesc's body tense in his innate desire to yell something back but he holds his tongue and just lies there, trying to pretend to be asleep even though they both knew better. Iker growls in his throat and Cesc's heart jumps when Iker's weight moves the van. Iker scrambles up onto the mattress and Cesc can feel his heat and then all of a sudden Iker's hands on his ribs and he's being lifted and then there is Iker's mouth and every bit of it is so overpowering that Cesc is completely helpless to it, kissing back on pure instinct and when he whimpers Iker shoves a thigh up between his legs, letting Cesc rub down against him as he sucks on Iker's tongue. Iker breaks away and lets Cesc go so abruptly that his body bounces on the squeaky mattress and the smell of Iker's sweat is all around him as Iker stretches his body to reach the pants half above Cesc's head and half under the passenger seat. Cesc grapples for him, for the loops on his jeans and his fingers slip as Iker moves away from him and back toward the open door. He sits back on his haunches as he fishes around inside of Fernando's pockets, looking like he has every right to be doing so and, for some reason, it drives Cesc mad.

"You've fucked him, haven't you?"

"Who?"Iker finds the soap and clasps it in his hand, tossing the pants aside just as easily as he had grabbed them. He looks unfazed and distracted by the need to be out of the van and that also makes Cesc jittery.

"Nando. You've fucked him. I mean, I know you've fucked the other one, but... what, is it like your traveling harem? Why are you guys running? What did _you_ do?"

"I let myself get involved."

"But why? Why didn't you just let them sort it out themselves? You know they're going to abandon you as soon as they can. You know they're just in love with each other."

Iker's eyes narrow and his jaw sets and he hates the tremor that shoots up his arm.

"Shut the fuck up. You don't know anything."

Cesc laughs, pleased that he'd gotten to him, and flops back down, bending one of his knees to push his foot into the mattress.

"You did it 'cause you're in love with the gyppo. That's so... pathetic of you."

Iker sneers at him and climbs out of the van, his eyes dark and horribly troubled.

"You definitely, definitely weren't worth the fifteen dollars."

He slams the door and Cesc's heart skips. He sits up, hands behind him on the mattress and he shouts as loud as he can.

"You haven't even fucking paid me yet!"

Iker grips the soap so hard he misshapes it and he's still glaring by the time he gets to Fernando and Sergio. He watches as Sergio peels of his clothes layer by layer and his chest tightens when Sergio turns a beaming grin to him.

"You're gonna come in, too, right?"

Iker sighs heavily and Sergio searches his eyes, seeing all the trouble in them and he pushes his bare toes into the damp earth to get up closer to Iker and he carefully pulls off Iker's glasses to kiss him right between the eyes. He steadies himself with a gentle grip on Iker's wrist and he lowers back down to the soles of his feet, his smile softer now.

"Please? I'll wash your hair, if you want me to. And scrub your back." Sergio is being playful now and it's so, so rare in him, so much of a give in his serious little spirit that it pulls at Iker's entire heart, it makes all his anger dissolve immediately and he smiles at him, leaning down to kiss and kiss at Sergio's bare collarbone and he wraps his free arm around him to walk him back down the little embankment toward the water, doing it with all the friskiness of a big brother and so Sergio is immediately nervous, is giggling to himself and trying to hold onto Iker's body. Fernando grins and runs along next to them, his fingers out to tickle at Sergio's naked body, at his shadowy ribs and his smooth back. Iker walks straight into the river and sets Sergio down in the water next to him which comes up to Sergio's waist and he gasps for how cold it is, goosebumps flying up his dusky skin and he's holding onto Iker for dear life. He grins up at him, his teeth chattering and Iker leans Sergio back, forcing them both to crouch in the water so that he can dip Sergio's curling body until his hair touches the water. He tips his head back until the water comes to his forehead, wetting his hair completely and then Iker lifts him back up, holding onto him securely and they smile at each other, slow and knowing and Fernando jerks at Sergio's arm.

"Okay, now! I'm here now! Don't you go forgettin' about me, gypsy! I'll start wearing American Eagle shirts if I have to! You will notice me, damnit!" Fernando pulls Sergio out of Iker's arms and all three of them are laughing, sitting down together in the water on a large rock right in the middle and Iker peels off his shoes and his pants, using his old baseball arm to throw them to safety on the bank. He hands Fernando the soap and Fernando goes to work, scrubbing soap into Sergio's back, cupping water in his hand to spill it over the soap, creating bubbles all over Sergio's body which makes him laugh.

Iker leans back with a sigh and stares up at the trees canopying the river, the sky darkening again but this time because of the sun that is starting to set in the distance, spilling vivid colors all over the sky and making Sergio's skin an ungodly array of colors. He reaches over once Fernando starts to soap up Sergio's hair to run his own fingers through it, to scrub at Sergio's scalp gently so that both he and Fernando are washing it and they're doing it quietly and without laughter now, just easy quiet and the sound of water trickling through Sergio's fingers as he tips his head down in almost reverence, letting himself be washed, cared for because he knows right at this moment just how much these two men care about him. He's held again by Iker's sturdy arms and held back so that Fernando can rinse the soap completely and carefully from his hair, from his whole body and he sighs between them, accepting the small kisses they leave on his skin, on his mouth and he's smiling by the time he sits up, taking the soap from Fernando and almost shyly pressing it to his chest, starting to clean him in return. Iker goes about fixing Sergio's dreadlocks, making them lie down in the right way and they all three look up when they hear the door of the van close and Cesc appears, wearing nothing but his low-slung jeans and a scowl.

Fernando smiles over at him and lifts his arm to wave and it lets Sergio scrub some soap in under his arm which makes Fernando burst out laughing because he's entirely too ticklish for his own good.

"Hey, c'mere! It ain't really all that cold!" Fernando squints over at Cesc and he's smiling because Sergio's hands are rubbing cleanness and warmth into his skin, because Iker is now scrubbing soap into his hair and scrubbing affectionately hard at his mohawk. Cesc sits down on a large rock at the bank and keeps his scowl firmly in place, shaking his head hard enough that it makes him feel dizzy. Fernando frowns, head tipping to the side like a puppy. "Well, why the hell not?"

"Rivers are gross. There are all kinds of creatures in there. And diseases!"

Sergio looks over at him and his frown is grave.

"You think you're too good to swim in a river?"

Cesc smirks at him and folds his arms over his chest.

"I _know_ I am."

Sergio takes a deep breath and looks away, cupping water in his hands to rinse Fernando's skin off. Fernando growls at Iker who is holding onto him by his hair and pulling him around gently, trying to make him fall off the rock.

"It's better'n bein' dirty and all sweaty! C'mon, you can get in just for a few minutes! I'll watch for fish for ya!"

Cesc shakes his head stubbornly, glaring at Iker now who is watching Fernando with a devilish grin, staying very still until he suddenly pounces, grabbing Fernando's scrawny body up and dumping him into the river, making him splash and kick around until he can find his footing, having floated a good five feet away in the current and he charges at Iker who is laughing hysterically and trying to hurry and get away from Fernando who is heading right toward him. Fernando grabs Iker by his arm and, with an amazing amount of strength for such a skinny punkass, pulls him into the water and shoves his head under with all his strength before bolting away, shouting and laughing as he tries to get away from Iker who immediately runs at him in retaliation.

"You little sonofabitch, I'll get you, I swear to god!" Iker is grinning so hard it hurts and he's chasing a scrambling Fernando up onto the bank, he's pulling at his bony elbows and making him yelp and giggle. Cesc moves away from them because they're wet with gross water and Sergio just smiles, pleased that he has the whole rock to himself now and he stretches out, naked legs bent and his head tipped back, letting his eyes fall closed so he can soak up the breeze, the sounds, the colors around him. Iker and Fernando fall onto the grass and wrestle around on it, both of them obscenely naked but they just mostly look like large eight-year-olds battling it out until Iker finally pins Fernando to the ground, letting out a triumphant yelp and then promptly releasing him until they fall lazily back on the grass, out of breath and shouldering each other brattishly. They both gaze out at Sergio and fall quiet watching him there in his element, dripping and shining with river water, warmth pouring off his skin and soaking up the cool of the evening, the wind lifting his drying hair slightly, the colors playing and melting into already dark skin. Iker grunts in appreciation and Fernando nods and Cesc sighs so loudly they both jump. Fernando stands up and goes to sit beside Cesc, wrapping a cold, soggy arm around him that makes Cesc shudder. He really does hate rivers.

"They got some good showers at truckstops, you know. We can stop when we get back out on the road and let you run in?"

Cesc shrugs then, pouting out at the water where Sergio is, where Iker is making his way back out and where they're interacting with nothing but tenderness and familiarity. He curses Sergio under his breath.

"I don't really care. It doesn't matter to me."

"You're awful pale, aren't ya?" Fernando pokes at Cesc's arm and Cesc shies away from his pointy finger, rubbing at his shoulder where a tiny bruise is forming.

"No! I'm just... it takes a lot for me to get dark. I've been couped up inside for months and months. Haven't had time to work on my tan."

"Hm." Fernando squints at him, still not fully convinced but at least Cesc isn't pouting anymore. He grins at him and hops a little in place beside him. "Hey! You like punk music?!"

Cesc looks over finally, his eyebrows raised.

"...No?"

Fernando's face falls and he's having to work very hard not to pout himself.

"Oh. Well. That's fine. That's not a big deal. You gots any brothers?"

"Just a sister."

"Is she hot?"

Cesc smiles at him finally.

"She looks like me."

Fernando waggles his eyebrows dramatically and Cesc bursts out laughing.

"Lead the way! You ever thought about a threesome?!"

Cesc laughs even more, shoving at Fernando who falls back onto the ground dramatically.

"She's my sister!"

"I'm open-minded!"

"I'm not!"

"I know! You won't even swim in a damn river!"

"Fuck you!" He pounces on Fernando then and they're all grins and laughter again and rolling around in the grass precariously close to the river's edge. Sergio smiles as he runs his hands over Iker's back, already done washing him and now he's just petting him, just pressing his nose and his mouth against Iker's back and rubbing at his thick, tense muscles and cherishing this moment. He rests his warm cheek against Iker's cool skin and Iker sighs, slightly jealous of how easy it is for Fernando with Cesc, for how much Cesc just seems to gravitate toward him. Sergio wraps his arms around Iker's stomach from behind and gives him a squeeze.

"Don't worry. He'll come around. It's going to break my heart, but he will."

Iker doesn't reply, he simply watches as Fernando and Cesc stop fighting and collapse on the ground, wheezing and giggling and kicking at each other.

"Promise me you'll let me know before you leave me. Give me time to prepare."

Sergio's arms tighten and he kisses up Iker's spine, sighing warmth on his way back down.

"I can never leave you. I'm meant to know you. I told you that the first day we met."

"You also told Fernando that."

Iker can tell by the tension in Sergio's arms that that stung. He curls around to kiss the top of Sergio's head in apology.

"It's... true, though. You know how much I hate when I can sense things, Iker. I do. I hate it. It makes me so... cautious all the time, so scared. But I am meant to know and love both of you."

Iker doesn't respond because he believes him, he has never doubted him before and will not start now. They're mere shadows and so are Fernando and Cesc by the time he speaks again.

"So what's going to happen?"

Sergio's eyes slip open and he smiles faintly over at Fernando who is watching him and he can feel Iker's heartbeat coming through his back and thrumming against his own chest, sturdy and strong.

"It'll all work out. That's all I know."

 

[chapter fourteen.](http://melungeoned.livejournal.com/33618.html)


	14. Chapter 14

"I almost miss your damn CDs, Screech." Fernando stares forlornly at the radio, listening to the static-filled twang of country music emptying from the speakers. He reaches up and turns the dial again, seeking out another station but finds nothing but talk radio. "I hate the South. Where the hell are we anyway?"

"Bout... five minutes from the Georgia stateline." Iker checks his rearview mirror out of paranoid habit, not catching Fernando's eyes that are wide as a baby deer beside him.

"I... I... we... why aren't we going west? I thought we was going West. Not South. Why are we going to Georgia?"

Iker does glance over for that, seeing Fernando's face and the fear there startles him so much that he reaches over and gently scratches the back of Fernando's head, distractedly petting through his hair.

"It's a shortcut. Plus I have a place we can stay tonight. It'll be fine, Nando."

"Where? Where are we gonna stay?"

"Iker, can we turn down the radio a little? I'm trying to show Cesc D minor on my guitar."

Iker turns down the radio just in time to hear Cesc's voice.

"I _know_ where D minor is, lemme see the guitar!"

Fernando is staring worriedly out the window, his knuckles pure white on the arm rest. His thin chest is rising and falling softly and Iker continues to rub the back of his neck and it's almost enough to calm Fernando but not quite.

"Please don't make me go back."

"It's gonna be okay. We're just gonna stay tonight and get up in the morning and leave. You'll be safe, I promise. Nobody will see you."

Fernando sees the familiar shape of the state of Georgia on the Welcome sign ahead and he jerks to life then, pulling away from Iker's hand and shoving out of his seatbelt to try and open the door.

"No. No no no no no no no no no no no..."

"Stop it! What the hell are you doing!?" Iker swerves as he tries to reach across Fernando and pull the door closed again. "Damnit, stop it! Sergio!"

Sergio is up between them in a flash and he grabs both of Fernando's wrists, his strength shocking Fernando enough to draw his attention away from the door and the passing welcome sign. He pulls Fernando's hands to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, lips hovering over the scars there. He searches Fernando's eyes and the tears in them cut straight through him.

"It's okay. What are you so afraid of?"

"I can't go back! I can't go back please don't make me go back!" Fernando sobs now and it's loud and gutting for everyone in the van and even Cesc is up now, the guitar forgotten in the back and he's petting the top of Fernando's hair. Sergio pries Fernando's arms apart and pulls him in against himself and Fernando's arms spider around Sergio's neck and he clings to him, crying now and he's humiliated by his emotions. "Please don't make me. Please don't make me."

Sergio looks over at Iker imploringly and Iker is staring straight ahead in worry and determination, his hands gripping the wheel so tight they're shaking. His jaw is set and he refuses to look over at Sergio.

"It's okay, Ser. It's okay. I will protect him. Nobody's gonna hurt him. Or any of you."

"You can't stop the police, Iker." Sergio whispers this and it makes Fernando's arms tighten even more, makes his shaking even worse and Sergio pulls Fernando from the seat then and down into his lap, trapping him back against the side of Iker's seat and holding him there in the floor. Fernando lifts his head and watches the increasingly familiar scene outside and he looks up at Iker in pure wrath, his eyes burning.

"Why the fuck are we goin' to Blairsville?"

Iker doesn't respond but his fluttering eyelashes and the loud sound of him swallowing prove that he heard him. Fernando's nails dig into Iker's arm and Iker still doesn't look away though he wants to scream down at him, to slap him, to shove him in the back because Fernando just doesn't fucking understand. Fernando slaps Iker's arm over and over again, managing to draw blood before Sergio can pull him to the back of the van, using every bit of his strength to hold Fernando there who is crying outright now, who is hysterical and about to have a nervous breakdown.

"Why are we going to Blairsville?! Why are you taking me back there?! Why?! What did I do to you?!" Fernando claws from beneath Sergio and is on Iker again, trying to grab the wheel and it takes Cesc and Sergio both to restrain him and they drag him to the back again, not understanding at all what is going on but they at least have a survival instinct. Sergio pins Fernando to the mattress as gently as he can and he's pulling Fernando's arms around him, trying to avoid his nails which he knows Fernando doesn't want to use on him but he's terrified, he's using his claws like a frightened kitten and Sergio kisses his cheeks which are wet with hot tears and he looks up at Iker suddenly, his eyes unimaginably wide.

"Iker. He's been hurt here. This..." He looks back down at Fernando, his fingers soothing on his face and in his hair and Fernando is just crying now, unable to fight because Cesc is holding his arms down and so he's just crying. Sergio's eyes overfill with tears as the thoughts flood his mind like the always do, without warning or basis but he knows them to be true, he knows all of the unspeakable memories tearing through his mind are Fernando's and he knows things now that he can't even comprehend, let alone give voice to. He shakes his head slowly, his voice sad. "Iker, this is going to change everything."

"Sergio, please." Iker is very, very close to losing it, to driving straight into the traffic blowing past him, to stopping the car and abandoning all three of them, abandoning all of this. He sees the sign for Blairsville and, unlike every time before when it only made him feel safe, made him feel at home, it now makes him feel sick to his stomach. "Just stop. Stop."

"I can't be here. I can't be here. Please I ain't supposed to be back here please don't make me." Fernando speaks through Sergio's kisses to his mouth, ignoring them which is unfathomable for him. Iker looks around at his hometown and he knows why Fernando is scared, he know this is ground zero for him. He knows this is Fernando's home, too.

They drive in a restless, relative silence for ten more minutes, the roads turning from straight highways to abandoned rural roads and finally to the narrowest of curvy roads with large potholes barely big enough to hold this contraption of a van, roads that Fernando's body knows by instinct, he can tell each small curve and he can picture with paralyzing vividness each house, each forgotten gravel driveway, each rusty mailbox. Sergio watches him, barely blinking so that he can watch his reactions and he tenses when he feels Fernando fight against him.

"Let me up, Magic. Please?"

Sergio draws a breath to protest but Fernando eases him back, pulling away from Cesc and Sergio both and he crawls to the front of the van, his body tired and drained already and he stares out at the backroads of his hometown, the evening drawing up around them and making the trees dark and the food they had gotten only an hour before is churning in his stomach and he knows the second they stop, he's going to throw up. He watches Iker, watches the way his arms tense as he takes the bends in the road and he can tell he's driven these roads a thousand times, he can tell by the pained ease in his eyes that he knows these roads just as well as Fernando does. He suddenly looks familiar in Fernando's eyes, he looks like home to him and it all clicks.

"We're from the same town. Ain't we?"

Iker glances over at him and they both look so tired, they look scared and young and too wise for even two full lifetimes. Iker replies without a spoken word and they both look back out, the van full of tension and Cesc and Sergio are sitting close together for once, one knowing more than anyone else and the other not knowing a damn thing but he knows when to keep quiet and so he is. He looks over at Sergio and gets a sympathetic smile and, for once, he doesn't hate the sight of the damn gypsy.

Lines and rows of peach trees fill their vision on either side of the road, bright green leaves and heavy, juicy peaches making the branches strain under their weight, fat, bright fruit that Iker knows better than any body, that his hands know how to pick with his eyes closed. He licks his lips, suddenly hungry for the taste of peaches and, strangely, for the taste of Fernando's mouth. The road ends straight ahead with a narrow, graveled drive that stretches back to a modest farm, a couple of wooden buildings and a few acres of well-cared for, proud land. Hills roll gently behind the farm and are now shades of soft purples and blues in the dying light. Sergio looks out the window past Fernando and he sees a large, dark brown horse that tosses its head and he gasps to himself, his eyes large once again and he looks up at Iker who has tears in his eyes but he's looking straight ahead, straight at the beat-up old Buick in the drive, at the large, rusted-out red truck, at his home.

The van rolls to a stop in front of the house and Fernando jerks the door open and runs to the grass and crouches there immediately to throw up. Iker kills the engine and climbs out, his legs shaking and he suddenly feels beyond exhausted, he feels the need for his mother's hands and for the man he hopes is still here to take care of things for a bit, he feels the need for the laughter of his brother and his sister and for the exact creak his bed makes when he sinks down into it. Sergio and Cesc climb out of the van and they stick close by each other but Sergio's eyes never leave Iker for a second. Fernando returns to them and his eyes are red but he looks better, calmer. Iker looks over to him and he stretches his arm out and Fernando curls beneath it, letting Iker pull him into a sideways hug as they walk up to the house, to the front porch with boards that are slightly bowed from the wet heat of years and years of southern summers, that have been nailed back down into submission until they look presentable. Iker's feet find the first step without looking down and the front door opens and at the first sound of that familiar gasp, his eyes fall closed and he starts to cry.

"Momma."

"Oh, my baby. Oh, my beautiful boy, my god. What are you doing here? Iker, what are you doing here?" The small, almost fragile-looking woman with strong shoulders and hands runs toward Iker, her hands damp with dishwater but she cups her son's cheeks anyway, matching tears streaking her face as she pulls him down to kiss his face and he curls to her to hug her, releasing a sob into her shoulder that doesn't ease anything, that just makes his chest ache worse and Sergio steps up to rub Iker's back immediately, wanting to try and take any of this away and he looks over at Fernando, hearing more rustling in the house and everyone looks up but Iker and his mother.

"Miss Judith, is everything okay? I swear I just heard--" A long body eases into the open doorway and it comes to a halt and Sergio watches Fernando's face because he never wants to forget this, he never wants to forget every movement of this very moment. The man in the house comes out of the shadows and the boys can see that it's barely a man, that it's a young man with a broad chest and with hair the same honey blonde as Fernando's roots, with a matching voice and Fernando's legs nearly give out from under him when he finally gets a good look at the man's face. Their eyes connect and the man's eyes are more green than brown but they recognize each other and Fernando trips forward, very near to hysterics again but he is completely and utterly overwhelmed. The man eases past Judith and Iker to get to Fernando and he reaches down for him, lifting him straight up off the ground and Fernando wraps his legs around the man's lean waist and clings to him. He holds Fernando like he weighs absolutely nothing and his face is tucked against Fernando's sweaty neck and they're both just breathing, loud and heavy and gasping.

"Davey. Davey. Davey Davey Davey Davey." Fernando digs his face into David's neck, so desperate to be closer to him that he wants to tear into his skin with his teeth, that he wants to taste his blood and feel his heartbeat on his lips and he wants those arms to crush him until his bones turn to dust and he wants to feel home again and he wants to feel okay again because he knows, he just knows that this man, his brother, the only person who knows him in the entire world, can handle it, can make all of this go away, can make everything okay again.


	15. Chapter 15

"Here, let me put you down. Here." David walks across the creaky floorboards in the sunny house and leans down, his aching back protesting as he tries to put Fernando on the couch but Fernando shakes his head hard, refusing to let go and his arms just tighten around David's neck, reinforcing the pressure of their chests together. David laughs in tender, aching love and he just lets himself drop then, body going limp and he lands right on top of Fernando on the couch but Fernando doesn't mind, he just clings to him, legs wrapping around his waist, face buried in his neck and he is utterly silent except for the deep, fast sounds of him breathing. David soon realizes that Fernando is shaking, that he's trembling all over and he reaches up with a heavy hand to smooth his hair back, tucking the unruly shock of white blonde behind Fernando's ears and he presses his mouth to the warm, salty skin of Fernando's forehead and closes his eyes and makes those soft, slow shushing sounds that had always calmed Fernando before, when he was much younger but just as scared, just as needy.

He can hear Judith, Iker's mother, fussing about on the other side of the livingroom, he can smell Iker nearby, thousands of miles and hundreds of days not changing his scent for a second, he can sense the other two boys, their overwhelm. Fernando calms slightly, finally, loosening his grip on David until he's just hugging him and David hugs him right back, in absolutely no hurry to get up, to get away from this.

"How in god's name are you here, Nando? How'd you know where to find me?"

"He didn't. I... I didn't..." Iker is crouched beside them now, very near to their faces and David looks over at him, lifting up onto his elbows and meeting Iker's eyes and all that feeling comes back, that feeling of first loves and of new secrets and us against the world and they both smile. Iker looks up at his mother and something about his expression makes her look away, makes her wipe her hands on the front of her jeans and smile at Cesc and Sergio who still look a little lost, a little out of place.

"You boys thirsty? I'll bring y'all some drinks." With that she's gone and David dips in to trap Iker's mouth in a firm, intimate kiss and Iker sinks to his knees beside them, curling closer to welcome David's fingers fresh from Fernando's hair and into his own and Fernando watches from his close up view, blinking rapidly in confusion and anger and finally in understanding.

"Davey." Fernando pushes at David now, breaking his kiss with Iker and practically toppling him onto the floor but they both find a way into a sitting position and Iker plops down on the floor right in front of them. Cesc sits down on the couch next to Fernando and Sergio sits down next to Iker, making them all form a lazy, dipping circle. Fernando can't stop looking between Iker and David. "Explain this."

"You met him before, chickpea. Don't you 'member? We slept up in the loft of the barn here so many nights. When we wanted to get away from Dad. We had blankets and pillows and one of those little TVs and--"

Fernando shakes his head, silencing David and Iker is looking at Fernando in almost fascination now.

"I _remember_ that, Davey, but--"

"Wait. Ohmygod. I _do_ remember you. That... that little boy. With all those freckles and those big eyes and... ohmygod." Iker can't stop staring at Fernando right back and David laughs for the looks on their faces.

"So how did _you_ two meet? Iker, I thought you were in school up in Jersey? How'd you meet my brother?"

Iker and Fernando lock eyes and Fernando's flushed cheeks make Iker smile.

"He just... jumped in my car."

"This is what you would never tell me. I thought you had a girl. I thought you was gonna run away with her and leave me all alone there with him. I thought it was some girl and it wuddn't, was it? It was Iker." Fernando's eyes are almost accusatory on David and David can't help but reach over to soothe him again, to draw him in and kiss his scratchy cheek, wrap his arm around his shoulders and just relish him.

"I didn't want you to hate me. For... for liking a boy, Nando. I couldn't risk it."

"You was all I had, Davey. I don't..." To say that he doesn't care about David being gay is a vast understatement and to even say it feels absurd to Fernando, suddenly. David moves closer to Fernando again and their arms and legs look so drastically different as they curl up around each other, looking like children or puppies but most definitely not grown men, not with the way Fernando nuzzles his head down into David's dusty shirt and the way he drapes a lazy, scrawny leg over David's legs and the way David takes up his easy petting with Fernando, like they had never quite grown up or been domesticated and both, sadly, were true.

David looks down at the dark child beside Iker and he can see a closeness between them, something in the way that Iker's body seems to be aware of the boy's body, the way they lean slightly toward each other. He meets the boy's eyes and he feels penetrated suddenly, exposed. He shivers and the boy smiles and it's nothing but understanding, but softness.

"I'm Sergio."

"David. Nice to meet you." David leans forward and clasps Sergio's hand and the rustle of his person makes a breezy clinking sound and David is charmed in spite of himself. He feels Fernando smile into his neck and, even though he seems to be half asleep, he speaks.

"That's my gypsy. He's my Magic. I love him, Davey. I love him a lot." Fernando certainly sounds asleep but he's just happy, he's just deeply happy and proud and Sergio's cheeks deepen in color but his smile brightens. He returns his hand to his lap and he grins down at it and David can't help but feel amazed. He glances over at Iker and sees the clear torment there, the struggle with everything that had just gone said and unsaid. David looks over past Fernando at the smallest boy in the room, the one with the darkest eyes and a ready frown. He offers him the hand that had been resting on Fernando's back and the boy looks at it in distrust before taking it, giving it a brief shake.

"I'm Cesc."

"You hungry, Cesc? I don't know if Iker told you or not, but his momma is the best cook this side of the Miss'ippi. And she does not mind provin' it every once in awhile."

"I heard that, David! Don't you be lyin' to those boys! They're liable not to eat any of this after that big talk up!" Iker beams for his mother's voice and he's up like a shot, running toward the kitchen and her voice and the warm smell of cooking. Cesc follows in pure selfish, tummy needs and when David tries to get up, Fernando squeezes him, refusing to let him up.

"Hm-mm."

"What, you wanna sit here with me all day?"

"Mm-hmm."

"How've you been, Nando? How've you really been? Be honest." David looks down at him as best as he can, carding his fingers through the tangles of Fernando's hair and kissing the top of his forehead every once in awhile. Sergio sits there in front of them, watching in unassuming quiet, patient and understanding and almost content. Fernando's silence is answer enough for David and he hugs him tighter for it, he rubs at Fernando's thin shoulders and down the bumps of his spine.

"Don't matter now. I ain't leavin' you. Ever again. I don't ever wanna leave you again, Davey. Not ever. Ever ever."

David doesn't respond but Sergio sees the hesitation in his eyes, the worry set up deep there that makes him look older than he is, than he has to be. Sergio reaches over and rubs Fernando's calf very gently, just a small, warm presence and Fernando truly feels exhausted, like he could just fall asleep right here. David tucks his face into Fernando's hair and breathes him in, knowing how temporary this is going to be even if Fernando doesn't.

 

\--

 

"Whatcha makin'?" Iker leans over his mother's shoulder as she pushes something around with a fork in a frying pan, something that smells delicious and his stomach is literally growling over. She swats at him playfully, so happy to have him there, to be able to tease him at all.

"Porkchops and macaroni and cheese. Do you think your friends will like it?"

"Momma, we've been eating Krystal's for a week and a half. We're gonna love it." He wraps his arms around her and gives her a squeeze and kiss after kiss on her cheek. She reaches back to pat his cheek and kisses at his scratchy beard before lowering her hand to smack the side of his thigh.

"Set the table, hon. And get out enough glasses for everybody."

Iker grins happily and practically bounds over to the table where Cesc is sitting, scratching at the lace of an old placemat and he looks up at Iker almost hopefully.

"Wanna help me set the table?"

Cesc, never having set a table before, really, blinks at him. He pushes himself to his feet when Iker's mother turns around and gives Cesc a friendly but expectant look and nods.

"Uh, sure. Yeah, sure."

"Good." Iker grins at him and walks past him toward the cabinets, giving Cesc's hip a squeeze on his way. Cesc's cheeks flush and he shuffles over to the sink to wash his hands. Judith nods to herself approvingly. Iker pulls down glass after glass, inspecting them for spots and wiping off any that he finds. "Where's Angel'n' Ron? School's out, right?"

"They're down at the river with the Collins kids again. They've been livin' in the water this summer. Here, child, here's a towel." Judith hands Cesc the handtowel draped over her shoulder and Cesc scrubs his hands dry before turning to Iker, lost as to where exactly to start this table setting business. Iker is balancing a number of glasses precariously in his hands and setting them down on the placemats one by one. He saunters over to Cesc and nudges at him teasingly with his hips as he opens up the cabinet containing the dishes, nodding up at them and giving him a grin.

"Get down six, Party."

Cesc peers up into the cabinet and then pushes up onto the tips of his worn-out Chucks to reach the plates. Iker can't stop smiling as he gathers the silverware in his two long hands.

\--

"I've just never seen anything like it." Judith watches Fernando in absolute awe as he shovels mouthful after mouthful of macaroni and cheese past his ever parted lips. Iker grins down at his food that he's cutting carefully, that he's eating in the savoring way a man would eat his last meal. David watches Fernando from across the table and aches for him. He pushes up from his chair and grabs the bowl of mac and cheese and dumps out two heaping spoonfuls onto Fernando's plate, smiling when their eyes meet, reaching over to smooth out his hair and returning Fernando's chipmunked smile with a tender one of his own.

"He's always ate like that. Mom used to call him a stray dog, the way he'd eat. I'd always sneak him some of my food if he was locked up in the room. I knew how hard it was for him not to eat his dinner." David's voice is far-off and pained and his eyes match the tone exactly. Sergio marvels at how similar their voices are but so different at the same time, how Fernando still sounds like a boy while David seems like he was never quite a boy, or never allowed to be.

"Why were you locked up in your room? Grounded?" Cesc gulps down the last of his milk and Judith is up like a shot to get him some more. David glances over at Fernando who keeps his eyes on his food and his mouth full. He gives Cesc a guarded smile and Iker clears his throat and swallows down what he'd been chewing.

"Momma, this is just fantastic. It's like you knew I was comin' home. Did you know?" His voice is lightly teasing and he grins at his mother as she walks past him to get to Cesc with the milk carton, ducking dramatically from her swatting hand.

"I never know when you're coming home, Iker. I called and left you a message two days ago and got worried when I never heard back from you. It's not like you to ignore my calls. At least not while you don't have a girlfriend."

Iker's cheeks flush and Sergio smiles up at him, bringing his fingers up to cover his mouth as he chews. Iker shifts in his seat and scrapes the last of the mac and cheese from his plate, eating it quickly and wiping his mouth on his napkin.

"This summer's been kinda different. We're on a kind of... spontaneous roadtrip."

"Oh, yeah? Where are you going?" She sits back down but stands up again immediately to take Iker's plate, kissing the top of his head while she does.

"Las Cruces, New Mexico." Fernando speaks for the first time since they sat down but his mouth is full while he does. Sergio glances over at him and wants to kiss his cheek, to try and calm the almost frantic pace at which he eats (he always wants to). David stares hard at Fernando, his own plate abandoned, stomach only half full.

"Why there, Nando?"

Fernando looks up into David's eyes and there is a full story there and it's enough to make David's stomach lurch. He stands up and wipes his mouth on the napkin he'd kept in his lap, his smile strained, voice directed at Iker's mother.

"Judy, do you mind if I take the afternoon off? Nando looks really tired and I haven't seen him in... in..."

"Go on, honey. You work too hard anyway." She takes David's plate away and her words make him look almost sheepish. Fernando finishes off the last of his second helping of macaroni and downs his glass of milk and he's officially almost full. He stands up and wipes his hands on his pants and his mouth on his sleeve but he has the sense to cover his mouth when he burps and to look shy about it. He walks over to David and David notes all the little things about Fernando that have changed since he saw him last: he looks even thinner, somehow (his waist a permanently tiny thing, surely his ribs are showing under that ratty shirt), he's a couple of inches taller, his voice is slightly deeper though it still sounds young (thank god), he has more freckles, more hair but it's a whole new color, not the honey blonde he had been born with, the dark circles under his eyes make him seem so much older, the weariness in his eyes even more so. David draws him in under his arm and Fernando sinks in there, neither of them saying another word as they make their way out of the kitchen toward the stairs.

The door to David's bedroom is cracked and from here it looks like heaven to Fernando. When David nudges it open with his foot it's confirmed, it's open and airy with gauzy white curtains billowing open with the breeze from the cracked window, it's clean in a comfortable way, the floors and doors and trim all a dark, dark wood that is slightly dulled with time, with dust. Fernando looks over at the bed and his eyes fill with pathetic, childish tears, fat tears that fall down his cheeks and David gathers Fernando to his chest, pushing soft sounds into his hair and guiding him down to the bed that is unmade, beautifully unmade and so soft and the covers so warm and soft and they burrow under them and Fernando finally sobs and it hurts them both down to their bones.

"These are your covers, Davey. These... these are..."

"Yours are in the closet over there. I ain't washed 'em yet. Couldn't bear to. I thought I'd lost you forever and that smell in those sheets was the only thing I had left of you."

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I left. I had to, Davey. I just had to. God, you don't know what I done. You just don't know. You'd hate me."

David stares down at the top of Fernando's head as he cries, he runs his roughened fingers through the greasy strands, through that golden straw color peeking out at his roots. He closes his eyes and kisses his head over and over, tightening his arms around him until they dig into Fernando's ribs and calm him a little.

"Just sleep. I'm stayin' right here. We'll deal with all of it when you wake up. It don't matter now. Nothing else matters. You're safe, okay?"

Fernando tries to nod but he's already drifting, tears still slipping tiredly down his face and he's pushed into David's body so hard it borders on being uncomfortable but it feels safe, it feels true.

 

\--

 

Iker and Sergio and Cesc had helped Judy do the dishes and clean up the kitchen, all three of them silently loving the simplicity of it, the order, the domesticity. Judy is telling them to do small things, directing them around the kitchen with a nod of her head or a lift of her broom as she sweeps the kitchen with the practice of a woman who has been doing this her whole life. By the time the kitchen is clean, Iker is yawning into his hand as quietly as he can and Sergio's sleepy eyes look even sleepier.

"Momma, is it okay if I--"

"Boy, if you don't get up in that room of yours and sleep I'm gonna whip you myself."

Iker grins at her and lumbers over to her to throw his arms around her slowly, giving her a squeezing hug and lifting her off of her feet which makes her grin and fight against him and smack at his legs gently with her broom.

"And... Sergio, is it? And Cesc? You two can sleep in Angel and Ronnie's rooms. The last two doors on the right upstairs. They won't be home for a few hours."

"Oh, I'm not... not really tired. I slept all afternoon in the van." Cesc looks shy for speaking up and he glances at Iker for approval who is already heading for the stairs, Sergio in tow. Cesc looks at Judy almost helplessly, about to change his mind and lie and say that he is in fact tired and maybe root around Ronnie's room for a comic book but Judy beats him to it.

"You can help me out on the farm a little, if you want. You ever fed cows?"

Cesc's eyes are as big as saucers. He shakes his head solemnly. Judy grins at him.

"Come on. We got a new baby calf, he's a doll."

Cesc looks to Iker again but just gets a grin and a wink in return. Cesc shoves his hands nervously into his pockets and follows Judy out of the house, half listening to her instructions and half watching the sun set.

Iker and Sergio make it to the top of the stairs and Sergio walks to the two doors he'd been told about, his fingers lighting on the knob the exact second that Iker's touch his wrist. He looks up into his eyes and lets go of the knob without another word. Iker guides Sergio to his door and his room and he locks it behind them, giving Sergio a moment to take in the sight, all of the signs of life here that are uniquely Iker: the baseball trophies, the signed balls on a proud shelf, the ancient glove draped over the handle of a bat leaning in the corner and a small bookshelf full of thin paperbacks (no pretentious novels or volumes of impossible foreign literature, all the books here are books Iker actually read, most of his own volition). A stack of folded clothes slump in the seat of the chair in the other corner, like Iker had been expected back, or hoped back, maybe.

They undress in silence, eyes dragging over each other here in failing light, outside the confines of a van or a car, here in Iker's room, his real room, a room that his scent is all over forever and Sergio's senses are overloaded to the point of overwhelm. Iker draws the blankets back and nods for Sergio to lay down first and he obeys, curling up on his side and his eyes fall closed as Iker sinks into the bed behind him, his nose and ears and skin in tune with him, with the solid feel of him curling up behind him, tucking in against him, his cock nestling right up against his ass and it's damp with spit already and Sergio's breathing is ragged. Iker slips up inside of Sergio and immediately wraps an arm around him to feel the sharp expansion of his chest as he gasps. Sergio's mouth parts and Iker's lips nestle against the back of his neck to pant there, to leave hungry kisses on his skin and he runs a hand down Sergio's soft body to clasp his thigh, dragging it up and curling his arm beneath his knee to hold him just like that. They fuck as quietly as they can, the thin wall between Iker and David's rooms revealing everything (and David, eyes closed and ears burning, hears every small sound), the snap of Iker's hips against Sergio's ass, the quiet whimper that Sergio cannot stop letting loose, the increasingly heavy breaths and grunts and moans from Iker until the bed is pulsing against the wall and they're both coming, Sergio biting down into his swollen bottom lip and Iker's mouth sucking a strawberry bruise into Sergio's hot neck, his fingers dipping down to rub at Sergio's inner thighs and his spent cock and up his splattered belly and rosebud nipples. They kiss just once, sweet and well-meaning and Iker covers them in heavy, familiar blankets and absolutely surrounds Sergio with his scent and they fall asleep clutching.


	16. Chapter 16

The first thing that Iker notices is that he's warm. He's not even vaguely chilly, not even on his nose. The second thing he notices is that he smells skin with his warm nose: soft skin covering strong muscles and the (gay) boy in him makes him let out the smallest grunt of pleasure for the discovery, makes him burrow a little closer to revel in the scent. The third thing he notices is that he's being held and that he feels small in those arms. The fourth and final thing he notices is the distinct manner of breathing of the warm, protecting man holding him and he realizes just as his eyelashes flutter him into consciousness that it is David, this is _Davey_ holding him, snoring quietly into his hair, digging short fingernails into his sleep-softened skin. Iker shifts and he aches all over and he can't help but smile, but spread his legs a little better to cup David's body between them, moving closer to get even warmer and he kisses at David's chest, chaste, gentle kisses because he doesn't want to wake him up. David though, being keenly aware of Iker, of every breath and movement from him, stirs, tightening his arms enough to draw the breath from Iker's body and he tips his head up to be the first thing David sees when he opens those eyes and they kiss before that even happens.

"Mornin'," comes the gruff murmur against his lips and they both smile, they nuzzle with their noses and the scruff on their faces scritch and scratch and Iker pushes in even tighter and David's arms obey that want.

"Did you seduce me out of my warm bed or did I sleepwalk?" Iker's eyes are slits and the sun is dusty in the room and the whole house is quiet, at least for the moment. David reaches up to run a hand through Iker's hair, doing it over and over again until Iker sighs with contentment and closes his eyes again.

"Guess you sleepwalked 'cause you just crawled into my bed and... well. I hope you remember what happened after that."

"The same thing that always happens when we're alone together for more than five minutes?"

"Mm-hmm. You made me come without even tryin'." David catches Iker's slightly swollen mouth and they kiss in almost painful, sleepy want, clutching each other and it's way too early for that, for such an overwhelm of emotion but they feel it anyway. He holds Iker tighter and keeps up his hand in his hair. "God, I missed you so much. You couldn't even guess how much."

"I bet I could." Iker lifts his arms then and wraps them around David's neck and they hold each other in silence for several long, quiet moments, interrupted only by kisses and pets and sighs. Just when they're about to drift off to sleep again there's a near-silent knock on the door, shy knuckles against old wood and David's eyes flutter open to peer across the room.

"Yeh?"

"Davey?"

David is awake now, eyes fully open and his chest tightens and he feels like a damn fool but there are tears in his eyes without warning.

"Come on in, chickpea. Come in."

Fernando opens the door and it's all hesitancy and the look on his face says that what he's seeing is what he'd been expecting and maybe even dreading and he gives David and Iker a forced smile when he walks in the room. David sits up a little, the covers falling from around his shoulders and he lifts his arm to beckon Fernando over.

"Mornin', lovebug. C'mere. C'mere c'mere..." David flutters his fingers to beg Fernando over and he hugs him when he does, when he feels those thin arms around his neck and he extracts his other arm from around Iker then to hug him back, he buries his face in Fernando's neck and they squeeze each other, nearly clutching but David lets him go before he starts to cry. He smiles up at Fernando and the eyes that meet his own are so wise, they're knowing and happy and sad at the same time and Fernando runs his fingers under David's eyes, banishing tears before they're born.

"I didn't mean to bother you. I was just wonderin' if I could borrow the keys to your truck. I wanted to take Magic and show him around town this mornin'. I promise I'll be back by the afternoon. I promise I'll take good care of your truck. And I know how to drive it, 'member, Davey? You taught me," Fernando stammers and stumbles over his words, over the argument he'd been thinking about since dawn while sleeping on the pull-out couch with Cesc, sleeping next to a warm, grey cat and none of it was a good substitute for anything or anyone up those stairs. He searches David's eyes and he's begging like he's eleven again and wanting to go out with David with his friends, wanting to get out of the house with his brother and have adventures and not have to wait home, for once, not have to hide in his room until his protector came home. David smiles at him and it's an easy smile so Fernando relaxes a little and smiles back. David pulls Fernando's hand up to his mouth and kisses at it, at the bony knuckles and the blue veins and god, he just loves him too much.

"I trust you, Nando. Keys are on the keyrack next to the front door. Be careful and stay off the main roads, okay?"

Fernando opens his mouth to say _I know that, Davey_ but he closes it just as quick, his grin spreading over his face as he nods and he glances over at Iker for the first time, his fingers fluttering in David's warm palm, reassured by the rub and squeeze of David's strong hand that he isn't resented for this intrusion. Iker looks tousled and well-fucked and soft as anything and Fernando leans toward him, met in the middle by Iker and they kiss quickly but invasively, Iker's nails running from Fernando's scalp to the back of his thin neck and Fernando is full-on blushing by the time he stands back up straight.

"You be good to him. I don't care if he's my big brother, I'll kick your ass, Screech." Fernando's voice is light and as scrappy as he appears to Iker but David sees a whole different creature; he sees his Nando, he sees him with mud on his cheek and scabs on his knees and tears in his eyes and bruises on his arms and his neck and his face, he sees him and remembers his soft voice as it slowly matured, deepened, as those thin legs got longer, as his vocabulary grew to be something bigger than their house could contain, more intelligent than anyone in this town, David was sure of it. He blinks up at Fernando and he's goddamn crying again and he hates it and he reaches for Fernando, uncaring of how Fernando figures out how to curl against him just as long as he does it, and he does, he presses his knees to the mattress and lets himself be dragged up against David's chest and he clutches him right back. He wraps his arms around David's head, hiding his own tears in his spun-gold hair and he feels David crying against his neck and Fernando doesn't realize that he's shaking, that he's trying so hard not to lose it right here, to unravel at the seams, not to ruin the armor he had carefully built since he'd left David two years before. Fernando feels humiliated to be doing this in front of Iker, this thing that he and his Davey had done probably a hundred times before but never with an audience, never with eyes watching, never with a witness to their pain. Iker meets his eyes and there isn't a single thing there but understanding, but painful sympathy and so Fernando looks away immediately, he burrows down against David and lays down with him as David turns to lay on his side to face Fernando completely. He drags the covers up over Fernando and digs his nose against his neck and his jaw and his bony collarbone, breathing breathing him in, frantic as if that day is going to happen all over again, as if Fernando will leave just like before. Iker curls up against David's back, kissing his bare shoulder over and over as he pets his hair, just wanting to ease the ache in him because he knows David, he knows the stories, the bruises. They lay there in quiet for a long time, only David's muffled, harsh breathing on Fernando's skin and Iker's pale lips on David's arm heard. Fernando feels enveloped and finally falls asleep.

 

\--

 

Fernando had woken Sergio with small, unsure nudges and kisses and strokes of bed-softened skin, sleep in his own eyes but they're bright and sad and determined, a perfect mixture of emotions to make Sergio alert as soon as he meets them. Sergio had put on a t-shirt that Fernando had brought with him and his own pants and boots, hair tied back in a messy, nested knot and when Fernando looked at him he had felt a stirring low in his belly, a strange mix of importance and desire and overwhelming nostalgia. He'd taken Sergio's strong fingers into his own and they'd left the house in silence.

Fernando drives in that same silence, not exactly comfortable but required, his eyes heavy and dark and looking out at the landscape, the rundown and the well-worn and the near ancient of the houses and the cars and trucks and bikes and Sergio tries to observe the same things as keenly as he can, through Fernando's eyes and with Fernando's heart and by the time they get to a place so remote the road is barely a road, their hands are clutched between their young thighs. The truck trembles in idle and the engine growls quietly and Fernando looks straight ahead and Sergio feels weak with emotion and he can look at nothing now, absolutely nothing but Fernando himself. The sun is a distant thought, a pale ghost in the early summer morning and there is a chill creeping in from the cracked windows that tease at their exposed skin. Fernando is shaking all over, light and it's almost a constant shiver and Sergio moves closer to him, squeezing Fernando's fingers slowly and Fernando comes back into himself then, his eyes lowering and angling toward where he can feel Sergio next to him.

"This is my house," Fernando croaks, his voice small and creaking and Sergio nods in taciturn reverence, finally looking up now that he's been given a sort of allowance from Fernando and what he sees is a shadow, a blackness, a gutted out memory of what was once a house and maybe even, for few too many years, a home. Charred wood lays everywhere, angled queerly and the house gapes at them in horrific silence, untouched and unmoved and probably even unseen since that long ago night when fire was touched to wood by a frightened young man who had been too overcome with grief to come up with any other option. Sergio regards it carefully, knowing that there are very few fond memories of this place for Fernando, knowing perhaps more of the story than Fernando himself. He looks back over at him and he knows without question that Fernando hadn't known of the fire, hadn't known he was going to find a burnt graveyard instead of a horror museum of sorts. Fernando stares and stares, feeling sick with emotion and disappointment and relief and when he opens the door of the truck, Sergio jumps for the sudden intrusion of sound. He follows Fernando out instead of opening his own door, sliding across the bench seat until his feet crunch in old, brittle leaves and twigs and the woods around them are nothing comforting, the trees are even bare in this midsummer somehow and Sergio can smell a fine film of rot, of decay, of death. He laces his fingers with Fernando's again and they walk together to the house.

"How... I don't..." Fernando whispers to himself, his chest rising and falling as he starts to cry and he stops right where he is, again just staring at the remains of his house and his sob is swallowed by the density of the trees, it doesn't echo and the realization almost makes Sergio shudder. He doesn't respond though he could, he could tell Fernando of the dreams he'd had the night before, the dreams that seemed to be David's memories of that night that seemed a lifetime away for both brothers, a night that had been replayed for Sergio in terrifying, stark vividness during his fitful sleep. (A fitful sleep that had driven Iker from the bed and into David's, and Sergio had known that, as well.)

Fernando takes another step forward but he stops because his foot nudges something solid, something manmade and his heart races as he leans down to push aside layers of leaves to retrieve it. His fingers close around a familiar bit of leather, a worn old wallet that is curled from its life in the back pocket of a hard man, a cruel man. Fernando runs his fingers over it and flips it open to reveal his father's picture, an old license preserved by the wonders of plastic. His face is handsome and a bit wrinkled and Sergio is amazed at how much the man looks like David only his eyes aren't as bright, aren't as kind, not nearly. He isn't even attempting to smile in the picture, his the face of a man maybe used to mug shots, to distrusting a camera or to anything that seeks to capture his photograph, his existence at all. Fernando runs his thumb over the picture, in wonder and not fondness. He glances over at Sergio and meets his eyes for the first time since they'd arrived and he feels some comfort in it.

"'S my dad. He..." Fernando shrugs, his words thick with emotion. "He... he was never really happy, I don't think. Never loved us kids a lot, or never showed it anyway. Me'n' Davey got different mommas. Davey's momma left Daddy a long time ago, when they was just young and left Davey behind with Daddy. Then he met my momma and he said he loved her more than the earth itself. He drank a lot and after Momma died, he..." He shrugs again, squinting back up at the house and his chin is trembling. "He hated us. 'Specially me. Davey said it was 'cause I look so much like Momma, I reminded him too much that she whuddn't around anymore. He beat me all the time. Broke my nose and carved up my ribs and twisted my arm outta socket. Almost snapped my knees once. Davey says I got Momma's nose and eyes and so Dad was always trying to change it. Couldn't change my eyes, no matter how many times he..." Fernando set his jaw in defiance, his eyes glinting as he glared at the house and then down at the picture in the wallet, his fingers hardening until they were shaking and he snapped the wallet closed, shoving it into his back pocket and tears streak his face now, leaving pale tracks over freckles and Sergio's heart is on fire now. He rubs the back of Fernando's knuckles and wonders at him, at his hands, at how much those hands had been through, had healed from, had touched to survive, had defended the rest of that beautiful boy against. He thinks of at least ten songs that say I love you that he wants to sing to Fernando, words that would maybe breathe life back into these woods, to this space. But he keeps them in and his chest feels swollen with it.

Sergio watches as Fernando looks around, in the present for a moment and he sinks down right there in the middle of the leaves, of the bits of his life scattered about them and Sergio follows without hesitation. Fernando gazes at Sergio, watches him as he pushes aside leaves and years of debris to get to raw earth and he pushes his fingers down into it, damp dirt embedding under his nails and into the fine wrinkles of his fingers and a wave of calm and understanding seems to wash over Sergio's face. Fernando leans forward and steals a kiss from his mouth that is soft with unawareness and Sergio searches Fernando's eyes intently. He lifts his hand and his fingers are curled to contain the rich, brown earth he's holding in his palm and Fernando lifts his hand to take some of it. Sergio presses their hands together, trapping the dirt between them and he rubs it into Fernando's palm, into his lifelines and his skin and he watches all of it with an unspoken diligence, with concentration. He removes his own hand and he curls Fernando's fingers around the dirt, making him hold onto it and he covers Fernando's hands with his own, keeping them that way until the cold earth warms in Fernando's palm, until it thrums with his heartbeat and Sergio kisses Fernando's forehead, keeping his lips there and Fernando's breath is loud to him, is shuddering and desperate and Sergio closes his eyes.

"This is your earth. This is your family's land, not just his. It's your home, no matter what."

Fernando nods just once, his head ducked to hide his tears and when Sergio's hands uncurl from around his, he opens his hand, staring down at the dirt in his hand and for the first time ever, he felt a kinship here, a connection to this place that had only been purgatory, been a hell that only sought to hurt him, hurt Davey. He can't stop crying now and he doesn't feel ashamed of it for some reason, not in front of Sergio. He watches as Sergio pulls a small bag from his pocket, a dark red bag tied with black string and he opens it, tipping it toward Fernando and Fernando pours the dirt inside, not asking what else is in it, not asking what it's for as Sergio ties it back up and returns it to his pocket. All four of their hands meet between them and they lean together, mixing breath and the air is humid with Fernando's tears and the scent of the unearthing done by Sergio's hands.

"She died when I was ten. Came home one day and Davey was sittin' in her chair by the window crying. She loved that chair. It was yellow, or... it used to be. Dad smoked and so it turned kinda a... a kinda sick lookin' brown, kinda like my hair color, really." Fernando smiles and it's self-deprecating and Sergio wants to tell him his hair is the color of all things good, of sun and gold and honey and a field full of bales of hay and of the brightest leaves in the fall. Instead he reaches up and runs his fingers through the fallen part of Fernando's mohawk that is resting against his cheekbone and their smiles match exactly. Fernando's fades when he sighs. "Cancer. She'd been sick for a long time, long as I could remember, but it just kept on gettin' worse. She was always so little, so thin. Like a bird, you know? When I hugged her I could feel her ribs, not just on the sides but on her chest, too. Her hair was real thin but she kept it as long as she could, always down and it curled at the ends like a little girl's. She was always so pretty, even on that last morning when I left for school before she died. She had the prettiest eyes and they were a dark brown, like... not a dull brown, you know? An alive brown, bright and... and..."

"Like the earth?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Fernando smiles again and he looks down at their tangled hands, at the dirt covering them and he almost feels warm. Sergio nuzzles him with the curl of his nose and Fernando sighs again. "And she had a pretty voice. Said she always wanted to be a singer but she got pregnant real young and so she only ever sang in the church choir. She always taught me those song she usedta know and she said I could be a singer, if I wanted to." Fernando snorts softly, his smile a rueful grin now and he shakes away the thought before it even begins. "But I always told her I wanted to be a racecar driver. Wanted to raise hell and drive fast and get paid for it, like Richard Petty. Davey'd just got his learner's permit a week before she died, on his birthday. He'd take me with him and we'd go drivin' at night, deep into the country and I don't know how he always knew how to get back but he did. He never did drive fast. He never cared, I don't think. He just liked the freedom of it, gettin' us away from Dad for awhile. Momma never would go with us cause she was scared of cars. Only drove into town for groceries and for church. Daddy always drove us everywhere else.

We stopped goin' to church after the funeral. Dad'd always hit us, yanno, punish us when we done wrong. But he started lookin' for reasons after that. He'd tell me to mow the yard and have it done by the time he got home but the lawnmower only worked half the time and I was little, you know? It was hard pushin' it and sometimes Davey whuddn't home to fix it when it stopped workin' and Dad beat the tar out of me when he got home, hit me and hit me until I blacked out. I woke up in Davey's bed and Davey's face was bloody and I don't know what happened. I just don't..." Fernando trails off, gone from Sergio again and back in those days, back in those nightmares that he couldn't make sense of even now. "I don't know what happened. I don't know why he hated us so. Sometimes I think he wanted to kill us and... sometimes I think he tried. He would strangle me 'til I couldn't breathe, he'd throw me out of the truck when he was drivin'. That truck back there." He nodded back where they'd left David's ancient truck and Sergio looked just so he could picture it and it made him feel sick.

"He fought with Davey sometimes, 'specially when Davey got bigger. He was taller than Dad, and stronger, too. Dad stopped workin' but Davey started and he worked out on that farm and got so strong, so big. Strong arms and hands and he started really protectin' me, really fightin' back. One time he broke Dad's jaw, just swung at him and hit him so hard he fell down. He was so proud, so... happy. You know? I know he felt good. Cause revenge feels so good, even when you know what you're doin' is wrong. Sometimes you just have to have that feelin' cause you can't feel anything else, really."

Fernando pushes himself up then, young legs already creaking and achy and he stretches them as he reaches down to help Sergio up. Their hands stay linked as they walk toward the house, stopping where the front porch was, where the livingroom is exposed through a gaping hole, the remains of a couch, the stubborn plastic of the television, bits of paper and the partially melted glass of beer bottles, the lone picture on the one wall that had yet to fall, a picture of Fernando at maybe seven, eight years old, his smile shy and not yet guarded, his eyes mischievous and even bigger than they are right now, somehow. Sergio braves through the wreckage, glass crunching under his boots as he makes his way through the remains of the livingroom to get to that picture. Fernando doesn't follow him out of fear alone, he hovers right on the edge of where the actual house starts, shaky hands pushing into his pockets, his eyes down as if he's going to get in trouble for even being here. Sergio stares down at the photograph in his hands, running his fingers over the charred tin frame and the smoky glass before turning it over to pull it all apart, trying to get to the print itself. He lays the frame on top of the television and studies the photograph, the ghost of the boy there in it. He glances up at the white rectangle left on the wall where he'd taken the picture before looking around at the rest of the "room," his eyes catching on the deep, set in stains of blood on the opposite side of the room, very close to where Fernando is now standing. Fernando is staring at just the same place, just the same stains on the wall and he's shaking visibly now.

Sergio makes his way back to him quickly, crouching down in the leaves to place the picture there flat on the ground, leaving it in safety before he returns to Fernando's side, wrapping his arm around Fernando's waist and tugging him gently away from the livingroom and toward the side of the house, the place where, in his dream, Fernando's room had been. Fernando eyes all the things that used to be so familiar: the cinderblocks that made up the foundation of the house, the water spigot that is bare of a hose, the oak tree that still stands proudly next to where Fernando's bedroom window used to be, that is shading a house that no longer is, that is tall and as strong as David (almost, at least to Nando) and whose leaves are bright green and swaying in the wind. Fernando reaches out and lights his fingers on the bark, feeling the life coursing through it and he knows that it's Sergio's fault that he's even thinking such a thing. Sergio squints up at the tree, amazed at its height and its strength and he looks back down at Fernando who is touching it with both hands now, who seems almost reverent of it. Sergio grins and he squeezes Fernando's waist.

"You're its favorite thing in the world."

Fernando laughs, an honest to god laugh, turning that bright smile to Sergio who grins right back, who meant what he'd said but he blushes for how silly it probably sounded anyway. Fernando tugs Sergio closer and kisses him sweetly, dragging his tongue over Sergio's teeth before pulling back.

"Damn hippie."


	17. Chapter 17

"Well, I'll be damned."

Sergio looks away from the tall oak tree (Fernando's oak tree) when he hears Fernando's voice, quickly closing up his little red bag a second time after carefully tucking a tall leaf from the tree into it. He returns the bag to his pocket and steps up to Fernando who is bright in the full morning sunlight, so, so bright. He glances past him and his eyes light on a small, almost miraculously preserved bed just inside the remains of the house and he knows immediately that the bed used to be Fernando's. He takes a deep breath and gently steps past him, ducking beneath some long, blackened planks of wood to get inside the house proper. He sits down on the bed with all the reverence of a devout and he looks out at Fernando who is trembling outside, seeming helpless and small and frightened alone and unguarded and he takes a step forward and into the shadows of the house and Sergio can see immediately that he was wrong, that Fernando isn't frightened but instead desirous, his mouth pink with it and his eyes moons with it and he reaches for Sergio as soon as he can get his fingertips on him, he crushes Sergio's summer bronze skin in his pale fingers and he bears down on him, staring into his eyes intensely before their mouths meet. Sergio moans in surprise, his hands tripping up to grip Fernando's waist, digging at his clothes to get to his skin and he feels the unmistakeable, hot slip of tears from Fernando's eyes moisten his own skin. He pulls Fernando down on him completely then, laying back on the bed and his legs fall open to welcome him there between them and Fernando accepts the invitation without pause, digging into the comfort between Sergio's thighs.

"Want you so much, Magic. I always wanted you so much." Fernando is crying and the emotions are filling up the remains of this room, of this whole damn house and Sergio's bones ache acutely with it. He runs his hands up along Fernando's bare back, his ratty t-shirt caught on his knuckles and he can feel his spine like the notches on a seashell under his fingers and Fernando's tongue is alive in his mouth, alive and hot and swollen with his words.

"Have me. Please. Let me have you just for a little while," Sergio whispers against his lips, saliva slicking between their mouths and they're fighting their clothes now, damning buckles and buttons and ripping at innocent cotton and all the trees outside are alive suddenly, the sound of leaves rushing in a heavy breeze almost deafening and Sergio's heart soars. Fernando shoves Sergio's boots off and finally his pants and he hurries down Sergio's body, nipping little kisses all the way down until he gets between his legs and he starts the wet sucking kisses all along Sergio's inner thighs, the intimacy of it so unexpected to Sergio that he can't help but gasp (a sound not common to him), but reach down for Fernando's hair to hold onto him and tell him with his fingers that _yes just like that yes love me just like that_ because his mouth isn't working, isn't made for words just now. Fernando runs his hands up and down Sergio's legs, wild with his newfound freedom on this beautiful body and he shoves up on his legs, pushing them curled like a newborn's against Sergio's chest and Sergio is laid bare for him now, his ass spread and exposing and his lovely, rose-tipped cock leaking against his warm, thin belly. Fernando edges his nose down against his ass and breathes him in which leaves Sergio shaking with desire, leaves him staring up at the ceiling that is as black as night, tears blurred in his eyes (because he can still feel Fernando's all over his skin) as he feels Fernando's tongue lick inside of him, lapping and pushing to loosen Sergio up.

Sergio shoves two of his own fingers in his mouth and then curls them down his side to dig them inside of himself, pulling hard to one side and Fernando moans at the sight of his damp hole fluttering open to him, reaching down to give his own cock a few tugs to ease the ache for a moment. He rocks back onto his knees and the force of the wind is making the house whisper and groan, sounds that should be alarming but neither of them care, both of them want this too much to stop. Sergio pulls on Fernando's free arm, tugging him down until Fernando practically falls on top of him again, his cock pressing against Sergio and they both exhale softly against each other's lips, their vision blurred from the closeness but they don't look away. Sergio feels Fernando's heart pounding through his ribs against the insides of his thighs where they're pressed, capturing Fernando, or containing him, at least for a little while (at least for now). Fernando gives one strong push and he's forcing his way inside of Sergio, keenly aware of Sergio blooming open for him and it's never felt like this before, not ever and he knows he's saying those words to himself, muttering like a madman against Sergio's adoring mouth and Fernando cannot get in far enough fast enough. He shoves and shoves until he's rooted inside of Sergio and he keeps his hips pressed forward, back curled, ass tensed and he's straining to be as deep inside of him as he can and Sergio can feel it, he can feel Fernando's intent deeper than perhaps Fernando could ever comprehend, he can feel him deep in his velvet insides, deep past his organs and passed his muscles and past his bones and his blood and even his skin and he's the one shaking now, he's tucking Fernando into his arms and he's making his legs a circle around his body and his eyes finally fall closed so he can sigh.

"God."

"This is more than God," Fernando gasps in his ear, keeping his mouth planted just there as he finally draws his hips back to rock back into him, their bodies colliding with a solid, damp slap and the rhythm is set right then, one that seems to come from the lift of Sergio's body and find its way into Fernando's hips. Fernando bucks against him desperately, drawing quick, painful-sounding sobs from Sergio and it occurs to Fernando that he's so close already, he's so fucking close that it's embarrassing but Sergio is glowing all around him and he can feel it now for the first time, he can literally feel it engulfing him and no drug has ever touched this, no high or any number of bottles of liquor or any of the other fucks he's had or given (a very small amount given) or all of it combined has never felt like this. Not like this. He feels Sergio's hands slide down to grip his ass, to spread him and urge him in harder and Fernando obeys with a strong shudder of sound that spills helplessly from his throat. "...C-can I? Can I? I'm sorry. But can I?"

"Yes. Oh, please, yes," Sergio gasps, his body as tight as a guitar string and he's open to Fernando, he's all open to him and he can feel his tears and his stifled sobs against his neck and then there's that low fire spreading inside of him as Fernando comes and comes and Sergio's orgasm echos Fernando's, deep and almost painfully good and he's lifting to ride up against Fernando's cock, taking all Fernando will give him before they both fall down onto the bed, boneless and quiet like this is night and not in the middle of the morning, their bodies shaking with revelations too much for boys so young.

 

\--

 

Angel and Ronnie had discovered Iker's return around ten o' clock and the thunder of bare, dirty feet up the stairs was enough to wake the dead but not quite enough to wake Iker and David. The door bursts open and Angel shrieks at the sight of Iker, uncaring that he's naked in bed with Davey because nothing else matters but her favorite person in the world and she jumps on the two sleeping bodies, startling them awake and stealing their breath from the persistent hops and Iker's eyes flash wide open and there is his Angel as pale and sunny as he remembered (but taller, too much taller). He beams at her sleepily, his eyes fluttering in bliss for just a few seconds before he puts all the pieces together and he looks alarmed, reaching down to make sure he is modestly covered up (and then making sure that David is).

"Angel, baby, can you give me a few minutes? I promise I'm gonna give you the biggest hug on the whole damn planet but I... I gotta brush my teeth first. Don't wanna knock you over with my bad mornin' breath, okay?"

Angel laughs for that, nodding cheerfully and hopping up from Iker and bounding across David who is trying his damnedest to pretend he's asleep to preserve as much of his dignity as he can.

"Momma wants to know if you'n' Davey want two pancakes each or four." Her hair has yet to be brushed and she's wearing one of her Daddy's ancient Georgia Bulldogs t-shirts and pajama pants with christmas trees on them that are at least three inches too short. Iker can't comprehend her beauty and how she can look so much like her momma.

"Four each, baby." He pauses, sitting up a little to blink at her, his head shaking sadly. "Why you gotta grow up?"

Angel grins at him, rolling her eyes (a new trait) and waving his statement away with a flick of her wrist.

"Everybody grows up, Iker. I'm gonna be on the basketball team come September!"

Iker shakes his head in amazement and disbelief, watching as she heads back to the door where Ronnie is standing quietly, eyes on the ground. She wheels back around and her eyes are brighter than they have been all summer.

"Hey, Iker?"

"Mm?"

"Can you come to one of my games?"

Iker draws a heavy, deep breath, reaching up to try and tame his own hair, his mind still reeling from sleep and from his weird fucking dreams and he rubs his eyes hard to try and wake up completely.

"We'll talk later, I promise. Give me five minutes. Okay?"

Angel shrugs and walks past Ronnie to run down the stairs, bellowing in full, hyper voice: "MOMMA. THEY WANT FOUR EACH!"

Iker looks over at Ronnie who looks startlingly like a younger version of himself and Ronnie's smile is shy and excited in its own way.

"Glad you're home."

Iker aches in a very similar way that David does when he even thinks about Nando and he smiles gently at Ronnie.

"We'll play ball after lunch. Promise."

Ronnie nods at Iker, hiding his grin as he ducks away from the door, pulling it closed as quietly as he can and Iker laughs when David exhales heavily.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. I feel like my mom walked in on me tuggin' one out."

Iker throws his covers back and he climbs over David to get to the floor, pausing to straddle David's back and kiss up between his shoulderblades and up his neck, giving David's ass a hard, good smack before he stands on the floor finally.

"Don't make me think about your dick anymore or else we'll never leave this room."

David grunts in response and the pillow hides the secret of his smile.

 

\--

 

"So, lemme get this straight. You don't play baseball."

Cesc raises his eyebrows at Ronnie, unfazed.

"Nope."

"And you don't play basketball."

"Too short."

"And you don't play football."

Cesc wrinkles his nose in distaste, squinting into the sun as he faces off with Iker's younger brother, both of them only a couple of years apart and Ronnie is just as tall as Cesc is.

"Football is dumb."

"Dumb. You think football is dumb," Ronnie states slowly, as if trying to make sure he'd heard Cesc right.

"Ron," Iker warns from the steps, trying his hardest to hide a smile. Cesc glances over at him but he doesn't look grateful for the intervention.

"Well, then. What _do_ you do?"

"What do I do?" Cesc repeats.

"Yeah. You like runnin' or soccer or bikes or what?"

"I like movies."

"Movies?"

"Yeah."

"Like what kinds of movies?"

" _Transformers_ is my favorite right now."

Ronnie's eyes light up like Christmas.

"I got it in the livin'room. The version that comes in the big ol' Optimus Prime!"

Cesc actually smiles and his shoulders seem to relax a little.

"Awesome."

Ronnie squints at Cesc for a minute, a funny grin on his face that he shakes off by lifting his baseball gloved hand vaguely toward the yard.

"You wanna play catch for awhile then go watch?"

Cesc blushes, nervous about talking to this kid in the first place who is still much more of a kid than Cesc himself, nervous about Iker's ever-present eyes, nervous about wearing Iker's old clothes and how ill-fitting (and unflattering) they are, nervous most of all that David will come back from working the farm early and that he and Iker will disappear up the stairs again and leave him alone with people he truly doesn't know. He glances over at Iker and finds him grinning and he looks away almost immediately.

"Yeah. That'd be fun."

"Come on! You can use Iker's old glove!" Ronnie tosses him said glove and takes off into the yard, yelling back loud enough to be heard. "Iker, you promised!"

Iker groans but he's still smiling as he hefts himself up from the steps, full from lunch and blissful from just being here and he sidles up next to Cesc who is staring uncertainly down at the glove.

"Put it on your left hand. Forefinger through the hole. You throw with the right. You've thrown a ball, right?"

Cesc looks at him and, for the first time, Iker sees true helplessness there in oversized brown eyes. He grins at Cesc and throws a lazy arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, Party. Your secret's safe with me."


	18. Chapter 18

Sergio loves the sun. He loves it through rain, he loves it through snow, he loves it most on those hot summer days where it beats off the hoods of cars in waves and darkens skin and where it lasts deep into the day. He has never shied from it, never gone inside when everyone feels it's simply too hot to be outside, he's always basked on such days, laid out in the grass of his backyard in nothing but his shorts, arms and legs spread to accept the sun that always felt like a gift, had always comforted him, made him feel alive.

He has never been one to talk about himself much, and so it was unlikely that anyone knew that his favorite time in the day wasn't in the middle of it but near the end. It was when everyone grew lazy and reflective, when the sky gave its most beautiful colors to be seen, vivid and impossible and the air cools, when the trees become silhouettes against the colored backdrop. He used to hide deep in the trees, as near to the top as he could get, fancying that he would be able to see every shade of pink in the clouds if he just got close enough. He used to feel romantic about twilight, more romantic about it than he ever had about any one person.

But then he'd left home.

All the trees around Iker's house are old, older than any trees in his own yard back home and he feels reverent of them, too much so to climb them to watch his sunset. He had picked a favorite out in the field and curled up against it for what has felt like hours. He had even dozed off waiting for the sun to set only to be awoken by a large, wet nose against his arm. When he'd opened his eyes, he met large brown ones, ones that are immediately familiar and he'd reached out, running a gentle hand up the horse's soft nose and the horse knelt down just like that, had pushed in close to Sergio and then spread out on its side, its soft belly exposed. Sergio had glanced down find its eyes serene, nearly closed. He laid down against him, nose pressed to his fur and his head lifted when the horse sighed and they'd fallen asleep just like that, oblivious to the first shots of pink through the darkening sky.

 

\--

Iker is bone tired but in a good way, in a way that has him smiling as he makes his way to the barn, makes him quiet as he trails his fingers over the old wood, over his father's initials carved there just above his own. He peeks into the barn, the bare lightbulb overhead lighting it just fine, revealing a tidy, proud line of stables, everything orderly, comfortably so. Iker glances back toward the house, smiling in David's general direction before continuing past it, his fingers blindly finding the latch that opens the gate that leads out to the pasture and his Amos. He sees the shadow of his horse out by the old oak tree in the middle of the field, the site of many hours of Iker's life (first a swing and then a place to read and then a place to smoke and then a place to make out) and he follows it, his eyes up on the heavens, at all the colors, at the stars already starting to come out. When he nears Amos, he stops, surprised at the third body in this field, at his little gypsy curled there against Amos like he'd been doing such a thing since they were boy and colt (one in the same, really). He crouches there next to them, taking this picture in before it gets too dark, before anything changes too much, before it all changes forever.

He kneels beside them, a hand coming to rest on one of Amos' legs so he can dip down and press his nose to Sergio's jaw, breathing him in, the scent of the grass and the wind and his horse and sweat and sun and earth and it's all so _Sergio_ that it makes him lustful, dangerously so. He pushes Sergio's hair aside and finds a fresh rose of a bruise just there, just his favorite place to suck on that lovely neck. He nearly frowns but shakes it off, closing his eyes to kiss that spot, his fingers stroking at one of his dreadlocks as he kisses Sergio awake. He lays down just beside him, head resting on Amos' belly just as Sergio's eyes open and they kiss wordlessly, pulling in close together and their tongues taste and their fingers stroke and their legs lock. It's not until Amos sighs that they break apart, breathless and swollen-mouthed and they smile at each other, gazing in silence, their ears filled with heavy horse breaths.

"So you've met Amos, huh?" Iker's hand is spread across Sergio's cheek, tendering that skin over and over, very softly, like he has the rest of his life to learn the texture, the curve of bone under such soft skin. Sergio's eyes are heavy with the weight of the evening and he gives Iker a gentle smile.

"He's beautiful, Iker. He knows me."

"I don't doubt it. He's a smart one. He ran off every girl he didn't like and he humored the ones he did. But he's never done this with anybody but me."

Sergio considers that for a moment, letting his eyes fall closed as Iker leans forward and kisses his eyelids. He opens them again and he's happy to find that their faces are even closer now.

"He's missed you."

"Yeah," Iker sighs, reaching up to pat Amos' side, his own eyes slipping closed when Sergio's hand steals up to scratch gently across his scalp in circles. "I never really wanted to leave."

"Why did you?"

"Had to go to school. Had to figure out a way to make money to save this farm. Farmers don't make much these days. And if David hadn't offered to help, I don't know what we'd have done."

"You want to be a farmer?"

Iker shrugs and his face stays just as tranquil. He and Amos sigh at the same time. Sergio smiles.

"Why not? I love it here. I love my home, love my family."

"Don't you want one of your own someday?"

Iker cracks an eye open. "My own what?"

"A family, Iker."

Iker snorts softly, self-deprecatingly. Sergio's hand is on his cheek now, strong and sweet and adoring, always adoring.

"Nobody'll ever put up with me long enough."

"David loves you. He loves you more than he loves almost anything in the world."

"Almost?"

Their eyes meet and a flash of understanding passes between them and they smile.

"He's done this all for you. He would do anything for you."

"Sometimes I just don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Iker sighs then, shifting until he can sit up a little, back to Amos' belly, his eyes on the sky as it changes and changes.

"I just don't know what I want. You know? I mean... I love it here. I miss it when I'm not here. But what about all the stuff I'm missing out there? What about all the people I can help that I'll never get to if I just stay on this farm? What if I'm not supposed to be here?"

"Seems like you went through a lot and you ended up back here again."

"Yeah, but..." Iker's eyes are dark and Sergio can see them, can see the dying light dancing through them and he holds it in his mind. "When Daddy died, I knew I had to take care of this place. I knew he'd want me to. But I don't have a farmer's hands, you know? I don't have the mind for it, the drive to get up and take care of this place everyday."

"What do you want to do? What do you have the hands for?"

Iker's breath shudders in his chest as he sighs again and Sergio can not by being able to see it but by his body language that Iker is blushing.

"I wanna be a writer."

Sergio's heart constricts and he moves close to Iker immediately, tucking against his side, face pressed into the warmth of his neck.

"Iker."

"I know. It's stupid."

"No, it's not. God, no it's not. It's... it's _perfect_. I know there are so many things in your mind, there's a unique voice in there. You've lived through so much and there are so many stories that need to come out. It's perfect."

"I've never let anybody read what I've written. Never."

"Not even David?"

Iker blushes even more and Sergio can feel it now.

"Most 'specially not him."

"He's the love of your life. Isn't he?"

"I just... I don't know how to answer that, beautiful."

"Why not?"

"God, because." Iker reaches for Sergio then, he hauls him closer so that they're both sitting up, so that they can look each other in the eyes. "Just... fuck. Just because of _you._ Because I love you. Because you've changed my whole life completely. And I don't just mean because of this crazy ass road trip. I'm almost glad we went because I never would have gotten so much time with you any other way. I never would have known just how in love with you I am."

Sergio shakes his head, frightened to the marrow of his bones and he's trying to keep it in. "I would make you miserable. I can't be what you want me to be no matter how much you love me. I can't be who you deserve, no matter how much I love _you_."

"You always _say_ that, Sergio, but I don't get what that means. I don't understand. You're perfect. I love every single thing about you."

"I can never stay, Iker." His voice is sad and tired, nearly hollow. "No matter where you would want to end up, I could never stay."

"But why?" Iker whispers, the tremble in his voice like a sliver of cold in the warm air. His hands are tight on Sergio's arms, not letting him go, not right now. Sergio tries weakly to fight but he just ends up pushing closer to Iker.

"I don't know. God, I don't know. It just haunts me all the time. I get so scared no matter where I am. I just need... I need..."

"Tell me. I'll give you anything. Just tell me what you need."

"It doesn't matter, Iker. I wouldn't know how to tell you even if I did know. Please just love David. He's so good to you. He is everything you need. He makes you so happy. I can see it in your eyes."

"What do you see in my eyes when I look at you?"

"Don't..." Sergio shakes his head, trying to stand up now, to get away from that look in Iker's eyes, that beautiful, beautiful look. "Don't do this. Please."

Iker pulls him down, overpowering him easily so he pulls Sergio down into his lap, tightening his arms around him, his breath coming out in desperate, sharp pants.

"Tell me what you see. Tell me what you feel when I look at you."

"Iker," Sergio murmurs, his fingers clasped on Iker's bare forearms and he's staring into his eyes because he can't help it, he's letting the fire there seep through his skin and into his bones and they're pressing hard against each other, both absolutely breathless and their mouths ghost. "God, I feel you. I always just feel you all through me. Like you would drown in me if you could."

Iker is moaning quietly, pulling at Sergio's clothes, at his shirt, his pants, grasping for warm skin, dying for it.

"Let me. Just fucking let me, god, I'll do anything. I'll do everything."

Sergio is crying softly as they both pull at their clothes, as they fight to fit Iker's cock inside of him again (again again I swear this is the last time I swear just again please).


	19. Chapter 19

Fernando rocks on the front porch swing, his eyes not on the field but on the barn, on the light seeping through the cracks between the wood. He looks over when he hears the screen door creak open and he beams when he sees that it's David. He scoots over to make room for him but David pushes his back against the arm of the swing and draws his Nando up into his arms, both of them long and lazy and happy. David presses his mouth into Fernando's hair and kisses and kisses.

"You 'member, Davey? All them nights we slept up there? That one time that it snowed?"

"We made that cocoon, didn't we? Didn't leave the covers all night."

"We woulda froze our asses off if we hadn'tve!"

David grins and squeezes Fernando so hard that he squeaks which just gives David another excuse to kiss his head.

"Did you take Sergio up to the house today like you said?"

Fernando falls quiet then and the air changes with it. David's hand rubs Fernando's arm, his own arm strong across that lean boy chest.

"There ain't nothin' left of it, Davey. Hardly nothin' up there at all."

David's breath is shaky and Fernando feels immediately near tears because of it. They turn more toward each other and Fernando closes his eyes, dreading this conversation and needing it even more.

"Had to do it, Nando. Had to."

"You found him, didn't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

Fernando is dead silent, his worst sin out there now, just right there between them. His whole body is trembling and David holds tight.

"I didn't mean to, Davey. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"What'd he do to you, baby? Just tell me what he did."

"H-he, he... he tried to kill me. He held me down and he tried to choke me, screaming at me for hiding his gun. I didn't hide his gun, Davey. It was right there next to the chair like it always was. I don't know why he thought I took it. I don't know why."

"I believe you, Nando."

"And when I tried to get up and show him, he lost it. He grabbed his beer bottle and he smashed it over my head and held me down, and he cut me. Sliced me right open."

David tenses then, his entire body frozen.

"What?"

"It was different'n all the other times. I don't know why. It was just... different. I knew he meaned it. I could just tell. He really wanted to kill me. And you weren't there and he knew he could. Nothin' nobody could do."

"Where?"

"Right..." Fernando lifts up his shirt and flips the button open on his jeans, shoving them down just enough to reveal the jagged, thick scar that ran from one hip to the other. He reaches for David's hand and presses his fingers to it and David sucks in a huge, loaded breath, fingers trembling but not drawing away. Fernando swallows hard and tears burn in his eyes, so, so close to falling but he's fighting them tooth and nail. David spreads his hand on the lowest part of Fernando's belly, holding him like that, his nose just above Fernando's ear, pressed to the sweaty, short strands of it.

"Nando."

"I was so scared, Davey." Fernando's voice cracks and he knows he's lost it now, that he can't keep it in anymore. He sobs and it hurts and David's other arm is like steel across his chest, the other tendering the scar, both of them reassuring Fernando that he was safe. "I didn't know wh-what to do. I knew I was gonna die and I wanted to find you and I needed you, Davey. I _needed you_." He sobs when he feels David do the same thing so close to his ear, both of them wracked with sobs so deeply-rooted that neither of them could make a sound.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, I should have been there. I was supposed to protect you and I didn't. I let you down. I let you down, I'm so sorry." His hands slip around to Fernando's back and he drags him up tighter against his chest so he can curl down over him, so that he can crush their bodies together.

"Where were you? Why didn't you help me? Davey, why?"

David remembers exactly where he'd been, he remembers exactly the taste and smell and feel between Iker's legs that night, he remembers the flavor on his tongue and how tight his body had been as they fucked in the bed of his truck, both of them drowned in sighs and kisses and soft whispers of eternal this and that. He remembers sleeping in Iker's arms until dawn. He remembers but he can never tell Fernando. Never.

"You were gone when I got home, Nando. The house was so quiet. It was never quiet like that. And... and I saw him. I saw him and I just... I couldn't..."

"I had to do it. I just had to. He was looking for his gun but I was on the right side. I ain't never fired a gun before. I was losin' so much blood and I could barely stand up but I had to. I blewed his head clean off. He went everywhere. You know me, Davey. You know me. I can't kill a spider. You remember when Momma told me what hamburgers are? I can't... I can't..."

David shushes him softly, the sounds muffled in Fernando's hair and David is scared now, by how Fernando is near catatonic, his eyes blank and far away, his voice almost robotic.

"Just like that he was gone. Just gone. All the hitting and the torturing and all the things he used to call me and tell me, all of it. His eyes and his smile and the way he walked just like you and how much he loved Momma. All of it, gone, just like that. His blood was all over me. Brains, everything. My daddy. He was my daddy."

"He didn't give you a choice, Nando. You never got a choice. Ever."

"Do you hate me for taking him away? Do you hate me, Davey?"

"No. No no no, oh, Nando. Oh, Nando." David turns Fernando to face him and he sweeps his hair back from his face, from his sweet freckled face and he kisses his nose, between his eyebrows. "I couldn't hate you if you ripped my heart out right now. I couldn't hate you for anything in this whole goddamned world."

"You burned down the house to save me. Didn't you? To hide it."

"I didn't know. I didn't know... anything. There was no note, no nothing. When I came home and saw him I didn't know what'd happened. I just knew you wasn't there. I looked everywhere. I came here and looked in the barn, I went to Paulie Collins' house, I went to the Texaco, I went everywhere. I burned it all down. I took all your stuff out and brought it here and fucking burned it all. Burned him. I knew he deserved it, no matter what'd happened."

"I got so scared. I had to leave. I runned away. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to go. I knew they'd find me and lock me up and take me away from you forever. I knew they'd punish me."

"I thought you'd..." David trails off, not even able to complete the sentence, let alone the thought. (He'd never been able think about it.) "The next night you wasn't back. And the next day. And the next day. Not a word. The police wouldn't leave me alone, kept telling me you were probably dead somewhere, probably kidnapped or killed in the fire. They thought someone had tried to kill Daddy over all the moonshine. They wanted me to give them names but I didn't know any. I didn't care about any of it. I just wanted you home. I always just wanted you back. Two years, Nando. I waited for two years. I never thought I'd see you again. I never thought I'd... I just..." David is crying now, honest to god crying and Fernando had never seen this, never seen Davey lose control like this and it terrified him. He holds onto David's face, his hands shaking hard but he's holding on and he digs their foreheads together, noses rubbing and David's arms are as tight as he can make them around Fernando, so tight that he can barely breathe.

"I'm here now. I'm back and I ain't never leaving you again. Never. I promise."

"You can't, Nando. You can't cause I can't live without you. Not like that. Not without a word or knowin' you're safe. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted."

"I'm happy now. I'm happy, Davey. Can't you see?" Fernando smiles and David lets out a breath of laughter across his face. "I got you and I got Magic and I don't need nothin' else. I'm so happy."

David kisses him softly, sweetly, exhaling loud and hot across his face and then he's hugging him, digging his nose against Fernando's collarbone, eyes closed tight.

"My chickpea."


	20. Chapter 20

It's well past three in the morning when Sergio hears a stir from inside the house. He doesn't move. In fact, he goes even more still than he had been, his shoulders quivering slightly with the tension of his muscles as he listens. He prays that it's not Iker, or David, because both men would require a conversation, an explanation for him sitting on the front porch in the middle of the night and while he secretly loves being watched over, having that sort of man around, tonight isn't the night for it. The front door opens quietly and Sergio's eyes are lifted toward the sky, staring intently at the moon as light feet fall across creaking wood and then the warmth of a body settles beside him. He hears a draw of breath and knows that it's Cesc. He nearly sighs but doesn't, he doesn't even blink and his dedication to whatever he's looking at is enough to make even Cesc follow his gaze. They stare the moon in silence for several beats, their shoulders nearly touching but not quite.

"It's called a dry moon, when it's tilted like that. When the horns of it are turned to the side. It's facing where the sun is." Sergio's voice is soft and even, reverent, almost. Cesc glances over at him out of the corners of his eyes before looking back up, frowning at the moon for a few beats.

"Why's it so low in the sky?"

Sergio stirs then, long eyelashes falling low and then rising again before he turns to Cesc, a frown taking over his own face when he sees an overstuffed backpack on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

Cesc's eyes flutter and he looks away, practically glaring at the moon now and he tightens his grip on his bag.

"Back home."

Sergio just stares at him, not sure if he's really surprised or if he's just jealous of the certainty with which Cesc says that word, _home_.

"To your parents'?"

"No. To Titi. I hate my parents." Cesc stands up then and Sergio looks up at him almost helplessly.

"Who's that?"

"My boyfriend. He leaves out on Honey Island outside of the city. In the swamps."

Sergio actually stammers, unsure of what to react to first. His eyebrows lift high on his forehead.

"You have a boyfriend?"

Cesc has the mind to look smug then, a proud smirk on his young mouth.

"Uh-huh. He's thirty and Creole and leaves in the swamps in this wild house and he loves me."

"Wait. You mean in New Orleans?"

"Well, he lives _outside_ New Orleans. I met him at a club one night in the Quarter."

"Why did he let you leave? Why didn't you just go stay with him?"

Cesc frowns again, all the pride leaving his face. His shoulders drop and his backpack slips.

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"Got a new boyfriend, didn't he?"

"He doesn't have him anymore!" Cesc lifts his voice and Sergio reaches up to swat at his calf immediately, lifting a finger to his mouth to silence him. Cesc glares again but drops his voice back down to a whisper. "I talked to him tonight. He wants me to come home. He's sendin' money to the Western Union here in town so I can take a bus back to New Orleans."

"So... so you're just leaving? Right now?"

Cesc takes the first few steps off the porch and has the nerve not to even turn around and look at the house, where Nando is, where Iker is. Sergio's lungs burn with the thought, with the thought of how it takes him an hour to leave Iker's apartment every time he does, how he has to go through the house and touch the furniture, the sheets, Iker's skin, how he has to go through the refrigerator and sip the juice and the milk and the beer, to take a bit of Iker's home with him and to leave a little of himself there. He has to touch the door knob and the walls all the way down the stairs and then Iker's car the very last, tears in his eyes, his heart half up the stairs in the bed with that soft, strong man and the other half is in his next city, in the new place pulling him away at all. He flies to his feet as Cesc starts off down the drive, turning to look back up at the house for a long moment and his voice lifts in a sharp, breathless gasp.

"Cesc. Wait."

 

\--

 

Fernando wakes up alone but he doesn't mind it, not really. He's always been a bedhog and a coverhog and a sleepkicker and a snorer and a sleeptalker and walker and moaner and a hundred other things that make him unpleasant if not nearly impossible to sleep with. But, if there's someone he really wants to share a bed with, he will argue that all of those things are actually charms until the person either agrees or leaves in a huff with a blanket in tow. Sergio had never required such an argument, and he'd never abandoned Fernando no matter how loud he snores or how many blankets he bundles up in. Fernando smiles to himself for the thought of his Magic and he rolls around freely in his wide-open bed, stretching his spindly legs and his bony arms until his toes touch the wood of the footboard and his fingers touch the walls. He shrinks back down to normal size and contemplates just yelling for Sergio because he knows he'll come back to bed and he wants him to do just that, he wants him to come back so that they can strip off their thin clothes and so he can lay Sergio out on what has become their bed (on some nights, on the good nights) and ease into him and they can have a good, slow, lazy morning fuck. Fernando grunts happily for the thought and he rolls over onto his side, a sleepy smile on his face and he opens his mouth, drawing a deep breath to let out Sergio's name in the most pitiful yowl before he sees it. And when he does see it, he stops. He stops and forces himself to sit up and his heart is already in his throat.

On top of a torn off sheet of paper lays a lock of Sergio's hair, a dreadlock nested and tied up with a loveworn, velvet ribbon nearly bare of softness from the near constant rubs from Fernando's fingers. Fernando stares at it in horror as if it's a body, or a heart, or a sign of something that he can't even contemplate and he opens his mouth again, his eyes immediately full with tears and he lets out a sob before he can even speak.

"DAVEY. DAVEY." He scrambles back on the bed, pedaling away from the hair and the note beneath it and from the door that David is now bursting through, bare-chested and breathless and if Fernando had been listening he would have heard the thunder of his footsteps down the hall but he isn't listening, he's sucking in huge breaths of air that are getting caught in his throat and he cannot cannot cannot stop shaking his head.

"What? What is it? Chickpea, look at me," David pleads, on his knees beside the bed, his hands cupping Fernando's face which is wet with tears, tears that will not stop falling and are now soaking into David's skin and David has never seen him like this, not like this. He's seen him cry more times than he can count, he's seen him broken in body and spirit, he's seen him scared and lonely and desperate but not quite like this. Fernando's eyes are wild and frighteningly blank at the same time and he's staring past David at the door, picturing Sergio leaving it over and over and over.

"No," he whispers, his chin trembling and then he's reaching up to pry David's hands from his face, his own shaking violently as turns away from him, curling up on the bed and around Sergio's pillow. David almost reaches for him again but he sees the lock of hair from the corner of his eye and reaches for it, running it through his fingers, not quite making sense of it but then he sees the note, the unfamiliar, almost poetic handwriting and he feels his stomach lurch. He glances back at Fernando who he hasn't stopped touching, whose back he's rubbing absently and he closes his eyes, his head drooping until his chin touches his chest.

"Oh. Nando."

Fernando lets out a heartbreak of a sob so loud then that David jumps and he can barely breathe as a sharp shot of pain courses through his body, from his heart down to his wrist and through his guts and down to his toes, he feels complete and utter sympathy for his precious baby brother and he curls up right behind him, drawing Fernando back into his arms, cradling him there and his mouth finds Fernando's ear and he shushes him softly, comforting him like he always has, the best way he knows.

"Why. Why. Why. Why why why." Fernando is hoarse by the time he finds his voice, his throat is raw from crying and he's shaking with it, with this sudden and unexpected breakdown and only David's arms are keeping him in this bed, keeping him from doing something potentially terrible. His eyes are on the wall but he doesn't see it, he doesn't see anything, doesn't hear or feel anything, he only knows that he doesn't see Sergio and he doesn't think he ever will again, he doesn't hear David's gentle words against his ear and he doesn't feel his body, he only knows Sergio and he only knows that Sergio is gone. He's gone. "Why don't he want to be with me? Why don't nobody love me? Why don't he know that I can't... I can't..."

"David, what--" The sound of Iker's voice startles them both but only David turns around and the look in his eyes makes Iker's blood run cold. He steps into the room uncertainly, frightened enough to need an explanation but terrified to his very core of hearing whatever it was, of having his small, carefully held-together cocoon here be torn apart. He blinks several times, his mind hammering with the reminder that these are probably the last few seconds of happiness he has. David's mouth opens and closes a couple of times, the words caught on his tongue but he can't say them out loud, not in front of Fernando and not to Iker. Iker looks around frantically, his eyes darting this way and that and he's becoming increasingly aware that Sergio isn't in the room (or in the house, he can tell. He can feel it). He sees the lock and the note and he stops just like the two boys before him had, except that he reaches for the note, fumbling with it with trembling fingers but he retrieves it, he squints down at it without his glasses on and David watches him, watches his eyes go from scared to something beyond gutted to hard, an expression David has rarely ever seen on Iker. Iker tosses the note back onto the nightstand and he's gone, doors shutting loudly until Iker is running down the stairs and then out the front door, then there's sound of David's truck roaring to life and taking off down the graveled road, every sound followed by David and unheard by Fernando.

David strokes his hair back from his sweaty forehead and kisses his skin, making sure he's holding him as best as he can, that Fernando feels safe and not alone but he doesn't know that isn't what Fernando needs, not this time, not right now.

"Read it to me." His voice is emotionless, flat. David knows better.

"Chickpea, are you sure? God, sweetheart, I don't--"

"Davey, read it to me."

David stares over at the note in something very much like fear, almost afraid to touch it, afraid of the strength of that mysterious boy's words, of what they will mean to Fernando, to Iker, to all of them. He touches the paper and goosebumps fly up his skin and he scans the note quickly before he starts to read it, emotion and pain making him trip and fall over his words.

"N-nando, please try to understand this, and to understand me. The last thing in the entire world I want to do is to hurt you, but it's killing me to stay here. I can't do it, now right now. I... I love you. Please don't forget me, no matter what happens. Magic."

Fernando doesn't react, doesn't move. David lays the paper aside and starts to rub Fernando's back again, his eyes on the window, trying to listen for the sound of the truck, for Sergio's voice, for anything that could reverse this, could bring Fernando out of this catatonia. Fernando turns to face David after a long time and instead of acknowledging him at all he simply grabs the lock of Sergio's hair and presses it to his face, the sound of him breathing it in filling the air as he draws the tip of the ribbon into his mouth, sucking on it almost fiercely. His eyes fall closed and he rocks himself slowly and finally seems calmed, at least for the moment. David can only watch him, can feel his heart break in his chest against his ribs because he cannot stand this, he can't see him like this, not his Chickpea. He curls his fingers into Fernando's mohawk and pets him very tenderly, his eyes trained on his soft mouth damp with spit as it sucks at the ribbon attached to the hair in his fist. He glances down when, just out of his line of vision, he can see the strange cut of the collar on Fernando's t-shirt.

There, very hurriedly but with as much care as time allowed, is a strip of fabric cut from Fernando's shirt, a strip just long enough to tie into a mane of long, wild hair, a memento from this shell of a boy that David is left to fix.


	21. Chapter 21

David wakes up the second he hears the front door slam. He lifts up from where he's curled around Fernando and he blinks heavy eyes toward the doorway, the soft rustle of Iker downstairs unmistakeable. He looks down at Fernando and he pauses for just a second to take him in, the dried tearstains on his cheek, the long fall of his lashes, the way he's clutching to the pillow that surely had been Sergio's.

"My boy," David whispers, curling down to kiss across Fernando's cheek, soaking up the salt there before he slowly extracts himself from around him, not exhaling until Fernando is alone in the bed and asleep for sure. He covers him up and takes a few more kisses from Fernando's forehead before he leaves the room. He takes the stairs in twos and he meets Iker halfway down and the look in Iker's eyes is foreign, lost. He blinks at David like he's never seen him before then he shakes his head, snapping out of it and nudging David out of the way to continue up the stairs past him. David feels his heart sink and he turns quickly to catch Iker before he gets too far away, threading a gentle hand with Iker's and giving him a tug.

"No luck?"

"No." Iker's voice is stony and startlingly blank. He tugs against David's grip and he won't meet his eyes. "Let me go, okay? I need to pack some things."

David's eyes widen and he tightens his fingers instead, keeping Iker right where he is. "What are you packin' for, peach?"

"I have to find him." Iker does meet his eyes then and his gaze is defiant, heartbroken and ready to fight. "I can't just let him go like that. He's so far from home. He could get hurt."

"Didn't you tell me this is kinda his thing? It's just who he is, iddn't it? He just likes to wander. You can't keep him here if he doesn't wanna be here, Iker."

Iker nearly glares at David and he snatches his hand away, his eyes burning red with tears and his jaw is set angrily. "Don't you talk to me about Sergio. You don't know him, Davey. You don't know the first damn thing about him."

"What are you gonna do, Iker? Look for a trail that he left or something? You don't even know where he went. He could be anywhere."

"He's with Cesc. I can only think of one place Cesc would go."

David tips his head to the side in honest curiosity. He takes a step closer to Iker so that he can run a gentle hand down the side of his face, that face that has grown up so much, that has sharpened with manhood but he can still see that boy of his, that virgin of a boy that used to belong to him. "Where's that?"

"New Orleans. And I'm gonna go down to the Greyhound station and ask around to see if anyone saw them. And then I'm going after them."

"You know how far away New Orleans is, darlin'?"

"If that's where he is, that's where I'm goin'."

David sighs finally, shaking his head tiredly.

"What if... ah. Nevermind. Nevermind."

Iker's eyes glint and he takes another step back.

"What? Just say it."

"What if he doesn't want to be found, Iker? What if he left to get away?"

"He always comes back to me. Always. He just... he just doesn't know what he wants. It's hard for him. He gets scared when he stays still for too long. He just gets scared."

"And you don't trust him to come back to you this time?"

"Stay out of this, Davey. Just fuckin' stay out of this, you hear me?" Iker's voice is trembling now and he's visibly shaken, his eyes darting from the wall behind David and toward the door hidden at the bottom of the stairs. "You don't know him. You don't know my Sergio."

"But I know you," David says gently, his hand cupping Iker's cheek again and he tries and tries to meet his eyes but Iker refuses. David's shoulders slump and he looks tired. So tired. "I know my sweet boy, Iker. I know your good heart and I know how you love. It used to be for me. Remember?"

"Don't do this to me. Not now, Davey. Please." Iker's voice wavers and tears tumble down his cheeks without warning. He wipes them away and stares at the door to Fernando and Sergio's bedroom, his fingers dancing over the worn wood of the bannister. The house is eerily silent except for the wild rush of Iker's breathing. "This isn't about you."

"Look. Chickpea loves this boy. And I don't know what happened between the two of them, but he loves him. And... and I can't let anyone else hurt him. Not even you."

Iker looks up at David and his eyes are on fire.

"You just think he's so fucking perfect, don't you? Your sweet little baby brother. You think he hung the moon. Well, guess fucking what, Davey? He's not as innocent as you seem to think. Did he tell you he was a whore?"

David flinches like Iker had just punched him in the stomach. His eyes flutter and his mouth goes thin but he holds the rest in. Iker smirks, hating himself for this, for what he's saying and doing but he's hurting. He hurts.

"No," he continues. "I don't suppose he did. He didn't tell you that he fucked his way across the country. That he was some drug dealer's sex slave for awhile and then some other guy's little pet. And I bet he didn't tell you he gave twenty truckers blowjobs to get us gas money. Or--"

"You... you _let_ him do that?"

"--Or that he let me fuck him in the bathroom at some diner up north? That he begged for it?"

David doesn't react immediately. He blinks finally, the corner of his mouth giving the tiniest twitch.

"What?"

"Ask him. Ask him how good it was. When Sergio was out in the car waiting for us. I fucked him just like you used to fuck me, just like you taught me." He pauses even in his anger, in his blind, masochistic (sadistic) rage before he utters his next words. "Just like you always wanted to."

David lunges at him, shoving him until he falls up the last few stairs and he's going after him, not one for violence or even anger but he's helpless with this, against this man who knows just how to hurt him, who knows his Achilles heel and is using it against him.

"Iker Casillas, you fucking take it back. You take it back right now or I swear to god--"

Iker shoves David away now that they're both on the second floor, on level ground. He puts his fists up on instinct and David takes step after step toward him.

"Sergio loves me. He loves _me_. Your fucking precious _chickpea_ doesn't know the first thing about loving him. He doesn't know how."

David's fist finds his mouth before he can even register it. It's not the hardest he's ever been hit in his life but he knows immediately that it hurts the most. He clutches his face in his hands and stares after David who storms off, knuckles bleeding and tears just starting to streak his face and Iker can't help but feel some sort of sick satisfaction when he watches David disappear into Fernando's room again.


	22. Chapter 22

David closes the door behind him as quietly as he can and he locks it just in case. His voice trembles on his lips and his throat shakes with a held-in sob that he can't let out, that he'll never let out. He turns to look at Fernando who is still asleep in the bed, the lock of Sergio's hair caught in one young fist and David rushes toward him, overwhelmed with so much, desperate to the point of feeling dangerous and he doesn't know when this happened, when the rug got pulled out from under him, when he lost his peace, when he lost his mind. He lies down in the bed again only this time he's facing Fernando and he untucks him, he pulls those arms and legs around his own body and he wraps his arms around Fernando's tiny waist and he crushes him to his body, a new series of sobs taking over him now until they all rush together into a single sound, into one, heartbreaking sound and he's gasping against Fernando's neck, wetting his skin and Fernando wakes to this.

He holds him tight immediately, soothing his hands down David's naked back and he pushes soft shushes into his hair just like David used to do to him, doing it without question or hesitation.

"Nando," David strangles out and his hands are clutching at him, pulling at his shirt and running the full length of his back over and over again. Fernando used to be frightened of these moments, he used to feel so young in them and he didn't even know where to start to figure out what to do, but he realizes as he soothes David's hair back and kisses his temple that it's different now. He can help now.

"Davey?" He cups his face and pulls David to look at him, David's eyes shot through with sage green from all the tears and Fernando's hands grow infinitely softer. "Davey, talk to me?"

"I din't know, chick. I didn't know. I promise if I had, I'dve done anything to save you. I promise I would've."

Fernando frowns and the first knot tightens in his stomach.

"If you'dve known what?"

"Iker... Iker told me. About all the men."

Fernando pales and his insides start to shake. He pulls away from David on instinct, afraid of retaliation, of punishment, not thinking it through that this was _Davey_ , not _Dad_ , that Davey would never, not ever hurt him.

"But... why? Why'd he tell you that? Why?"

"Why'd you do it, Nando? Why didn't you just come home to me? Why didn't you just let me take care of you?"

"Because this was _my_ mess. _My_ problem. Because I had to run away, Davey. I couldn't come back here. I didn't wanna get you into trouble. I'd rather die first."

David searches his eyes almost frantically and he pulls Fernando close to him again, bodies slotting together easily. He runs his fingers carefully over the piercings in Fernando's cheeks, the ones that are settled down into his dimples and over the loop that curls around the left side of his top lip. He fingers that one gently and Fernando keeps his mouth soft and parted, letting him, watching him. He watches David face as his hands push up into his hair next, over the shaved sides that are growing out and over the bleached-out mop on top, his rat's nest of a mohawk and he watches David's strong mouth form a sigh. One of the hands returns to his face, forefinger stroking over his top lip piercing and Fernando kisses the pad of it.

"Changed so much gone from me. You changed so much. My little boy."

"I didn't change too much, Davey. I swear I didn't." He feels shy under David's attentive fingers, the fingers that have known him since he was a newborn, the fingers that have touched his skin every year of his life (almost, almost). "I'm still your baby brother."

"How many?"

"Hm?" Fernando's eyes light on the broken skin of David's knuckles and alarms ring in his head and he feels sick suddenly. He pulls that hand toward himself and kisses at the broken skin tenderly, and he can't help the way his ribs ache when David gasps the second Fernando's tongue touches his knuckles.

"How many have had you, chickpea? How many? Be honest."

"I don't know, Davey. I just... I really don't know."

"Were you really..." David struggles with the words, raw under the soft ministrations from Fernando's mouth, from the laps of his tongue and his sweet mouth. "Did... did anyone hurt you? Did anyone force you?"

"Davey..."

"Tell me." He tugs his hand away and runs it up over Fernando's cheek and into his hair, soothing it down, moving them even closer together and Iker's words ring over and over in his mind.

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"They raped you?"

"Sometimes." Fernando keeps his voice even and he avoids David's eyes, the word careful and light on his tongue. He feels David tighten his arm around him and he draws in a breath that sounds loud between them. He closes his eyes when he feels David's mouth on his chin.

"God, how did they not know. How did they not know."

"Know what?"

"How special you are."

"But I'm not, Davey. I'm really not."

"I've known you your whole life. I've... I've always seen it, Nando. Always. That's what I always tried to protect. That light inside you. That's what... what I've worked for all these years. That's what I've saved money for. I got a box under my bed, chickpea. I have $11,000 in it. Because I was waitin' for you. I was waiting for you to come home so we could start a new life. So I could take care of you the way I always wanted. The way you always deserved."

"You got that kind of money saved?" Fernando's eyes are wide as saucers and David grins before he kisses at his cheeks, at those dimples piercings, both of them.

"Yeah. I do. Just for you and me."

"Not for Iker?"

David's face darkens then and he changes, a visible shift in mood. The puzzle pieces slide together finally, the busted knuckles and David's sudden panic when he woke Fernando up and the questions. Fernando's fingers trip over David's hairline and his face is heavy with concern.

"What did he do to you?"

"Don't worry about it, honey. Don't worry about it. You have enough on your plate." David kisses at Fernando's rabbit nose, kisses down to the dip above his top lip and Fernando's heart is racing for so many reasons.

"What did he say to you, Davey? Why are you so upset? Please." Fernando closes his eyes and snuggles up to him, feeling the extent of this luxury, of having David back at all, let alone in his bed, let alone in such a quiet moment when he needs, when he needs him so, so much.

"He told me."

Fernando's heart jumps into his throat and his eyes shut even tighter. He follows David's hands on him in his mind's eye, follows them down his waist and up across his chest to his pounding heart.

"He... he told you?"

"That he fucked you."

Fernando's blood runs cold, ice tearing at his veins.

"...Oh."

"Is it true?"

"I don't wanna talk about this, Davey."

"Tell me, chickpea. Is it?"

Fernando sucks in a loud breath that he exhales across David's ear and he wraps his arms around his neck, clinging to him so Davey can't let go when he hears the next word out of Fernando's mouth.

"Yeah."

"Goddamnit," David hisses, his voice razor-edged with pain and he pushes his face hard into Fernando's neck, bone colliding with bone and Fernando is bruising under the pressure. "Goddamnit."

"I... I didn't know. H-he didn't know. You always kept us apart, Davey. I didnt know."

"Was he good?" The words are scalding against Fernando's ear and his skin tingles and he can feel the exact pressure of each of David's fingertips against his back. He swallows weakly and digs his cheek against David's.

"Ye-yeah. Yes."

"Real good?"

"Mm-hmm." They shift and they press closer together and Fernando's legs part around one of David's and their bodies collide even tighter and they both gasp, low and wet and secret.

"That was my fuck. That was mine. I taught him to fuck like that." David's voice is a growl and it sounds so foreign to Fernando, it sounds dangerous and animalistic and not at all like the gentle boy who had guarded him his whole life. David's fingers are suddenly at the small of his back and they're digging at his shirt and pushing against bare, burning skin. "Did you like it?"

"Yes, Davey. Yes. God, yes."

" _God,_ Nando. Ohmygod." David pants against Fernando's neck, his hands gripping him so tight that Fernando whimpers and he arches helplessly, offering himself up to those fingers, inviting them lower, if they wanted. He feels David's wet, messy kisses against his sweaty skin and he writhes against him, alive and awake and he feels so close to something, so close to easing an ache that he kept locked up tight, that he hid for so long. David kisses up his neck and he pants out a whispered growl against Fernando's waiting mouth and Fernando cannot move, he can't even draw in a full breath. David gentles suddenly and he kisses Fernando with a softness Fernando didn't know even existed, let alone inside this moment, between two burning bodies who have almost found what they want, almost. Fernando kisses him back a little more firmly, parting his lips without being asked and David's tongue slips inside of his mouth for all of three seconds before he's pulling away, lifting up out of the bed and he's shirtless and breathless and nearly savage looking as he stands over Fernando, his cock pushing against his pants and their eyes are locked.

"I've gotta go work in the stables for awhile. How about porkchops for dinner, darlin?"

Fernando just stares up at him, licking his lips over and over and he nods, a shaky, stuttered thing and David's smile eases the pain in his chest just a little. David pauses in the door and turns to look at him, at how Fernando is rumpled and swollen-mouthed and sweaty in that bed, in this room that almost smells like sex.

"Love you, chickpea."

"Love you, too, Davey. I love you."

David grins at him then, his fingers trailing over the worn wood of the doorframe and then he's gone, hand trembling on the railing as he runs down the stairs.


	23. Chapter 23

Fernando waits until he's sure David is gone from the house, that he's across the yard and well to the barn before he gets up. Dusk is settling on the house, leaving it quiet as a whisper and empty. He mentally counts and knows there are only two people in this house, that the rest are on the run or at baseball games or pulling on old leather work gloves in the barn and ignoring the hardness in their jeans to repair, to clean, to forget for awhile. He places the lock of Sergio's hair reverently on the bedside table and realizes for the hundredth time that this isn't his room. (It could be. It very well could be, one day.) He runs his fingers over the little bit of hair before his face hardens, a time-earned frown taking over as he steps from his room and into the hallway, his eyes on one door and one door only.

He doesn't knock but he doesn't need to. Iker has been expecting him. Fernando can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way he doesn't flinch when Fernando pushes the door open without trying to be quiet. He stands in the doorway, staring at Iker's curled, broad back in one of his high school t-shirts, at the way Iker is staring out the window in a profound silence, one befitting of a man and not a boy who still feels as helpless as Iker does. Fernando finally glances around and sees the clothes everywhere, the half-packed duffel bag, the toothbrush laying on top of a small pile of money, a twenty and some ones and a bunch of coins. He steps into the room and closes the door. Iker only reacts when he hears the lock turn.

"I need to talk to you," Fernando says as evenly as he can, his fingers lingering on the doorknob as if he really doesn't want to do this but he does. He has to. All he has to think about is his Davey's busted knuckles and the heartbreaking sounds of his sobs and he's furious all over again. He waits for Iker to say something, anything, and he nearly growls when he doesn't. "I _said_ I need to fucking talk to you. So _listen to me_." Fernando kicks the duffel bag, sending the clothes flying and then Iker is on his feet, standing a full four inches taller than Fernando but Fernando is furious and blind with it.

"Nothing to talk about. You win, right? You got the note and you got your memento and you fucked up my life. You won."

Fernando just blinks at him, not quite sure if he's heard him right. He shakes his head, clearing his mind to focus on the reason he came in here.

"Why the fuck did you tell him?"

"Tell who what?" Iker is nearly smug, nearly maniacal but Fernando knows better. He can see his blood racing, his heart slamming in his chest. He can almost smell his tears over the scent of his own.

"Why did you tell Davey about you and me?"

Iker raises his eyebrows, faking surprise all over his features. "Oh, he told you, huh? I'm amazed he brought it up. I thought it was something that just wasn't talked about."

"What isn't talked about?"

Iker snorts and he looks around the empty room for help, his gaze returning to Fernando when he doesn't get it.

"That he's fucking in love with you."

Fernando blushes hard and irreversibly and his face is a mask of guilt. He clenches his jaw and his fists and pushes forward.

"You just don't get it, do you, asshole? You just don' fuckin' get it."

"Get what, _chickpea_? Why don't you enlighten me?" Iker makes a show of sitting down, his eyes rimmed in red and he's still managing a smirk though neither of them know how at this point.

"I don't have to explain shit to you, you prick. Anything that happens between me and my brother is our business, whether it pisses you off or not. I was here long before you was and I'll be here _way_ longer than you will anyway."

"Did he fuck you in there?"

Fernando's pulse quickens.

"What?"

"Did he fuck you?" Iker looks him over, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. "Hm. Guess he didn't. You're hard as a fucking rock." They both look down at the front of Fernando's thin pants and Fernando flushes again. His shoulders droop and his words have gone, abandoned him.

"I need him, Iker." His voice is so small, so tired. He isn't looking at him anymore, can't look anywhere near him. They hear David calling the horse outside and neither know the way the other's heart soars at the sound. "Whether you get it or not, he's mine. I can't help it. And I can't feel bad about it. Not anymore."

"What about Sergio?"

Their eyes lock this time and Iker looks ready to fall apart right there in front of him. They know each other's weaknesses. Fernando feels like he's holding a knife to Iker's throat.

"What about him," he says right back, defiant as he knows how to be (which is quite a lot). "I love him. 'N he loves me. He told me he did."

"You can't have them both, Nando. You just fucking can't."

"Why are you always the one that gets to make choices? When is it my turn to make a fucking decision?"

"Alright." Iker folds his arms over his chest, his mouth a thin, angry line. "Choose."

Fernando sighs, dropping his shoulders and turning to leave. "This is fuckin' ridiculous. I ain't playin' this game with you."

Iker is on his feet and his hands are on Fernando's shoulders, tight and bruising before Fernando can focus his eyes on the angry face in front of him. His breath smells sweet with something, with fruit, maybe an apple and sour with beer. Fernando knows the smell of beer on breath very well. He tries to shove away but Iker is stronger and Fernando's eyes involuntarily fill with tears.

"Let me go! Let me the fuck go right now!"

"You can't hurt him. I will not let you hurt him _he's mine, goddamnit_!" Iker sobs and it's so loud that Fernando startles, his entire body jerking and Iker is crushing Fernando to himself, wrapping solid, strong arms around him and pulling all the breath from him. "I love him. God, I just love him and I need him and you just came and you took him from me. You just took him from me. I don't... I don't know how to deal with it. I just can't. I can't do this anymore."

Fernando pushes weakly at Iker who is falling apart in front of him very literally, who is sinking to his knees with Fernando trapped against him and he's sobbing, loud, heaving sobs into Fernando's torn and cut shirt, pale hands clutching at his hair, at the back of Fernando's neck. Fernando blinks numbly at the wall, tears burning in his own eyes but he refuses. He refuses.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to take him from you."

"I just want to be enough for him. I've always just wanted to be enough and I _tried_ to be enough but I don't know what he wants. It's like with Davey. I always knew I was never enough for him and today I realized that it was because of you, too. Both of them. I'm not you for them. I'm not enough."

"Iker," Fernando whispers tearfully, trying to push away again because the tears are welling in his eyes and he can't handle this, his heart threatening to burst from his small chest. He sniffles, his body softening against Iker for the first time since he stepped into the room and he wraps his arms around Iker's waist, face hiding in his shoulder so it soaked up the first of his tears. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to."

"I didn't mean... god. Nando. I'm..." he reaches for him, lifting Fernando's face and it hits him in a suffocating wave what he's said to this boy, what he's made him feel. He kisses his forehead, right between his eyebrows, just below his doe brown eyes where the freckles are like stardust and they're ocean salt and Fernando pushes his mouth up to catch Iker's then, their mouths locking like they're a perfect fit, too, somehow, like this is just what he needs. He reaches for one of Iker's hands and pulls it to his pants, both of them working to push them away from his young body enough to fit Iker's hand down inside, down into the heat between his legs and he's not wearing underwear, not wearing anything to block Iker's strong fingers from the want of his pink cock and he gasps into Iker's mouth, gasps through Iker's growl, through the squeeze of his hand, making Fernando plump against his palm. "God, did he do this to you? Did he make you hard?"

"Yes," Fernando gasps and it feels like such a longheld secret, such a confession and that only makes him drip salt across Iker's fingers, makes him push tighter against him, makes him sit more firmly on Iker's hard cock. "Kissed me. God, he kissed me."

"All it took was a kiss?" They're shoving against each other again but this time they're battling their clothes, both knowing they shouldn't be and they shouldn't be and they are, they're kicking off pants and pulling off shirts to feel the heat of each other. Iker's cock is right where it's been before and he kisses Fernando long and hard, feeding from his desperation, feeding from how quickly Fernando is nodding yesyesgodyes. He's stroking Fernando now, rubbing his own cock against his hole and fucking shallowly up against it. "He just had to kiss you to get you like this? God, if he only knew. If he'd only always known how much he has you."

"He knows," Fernando murmurs, his legs spreading across Iker's lap and they both force his cock up into Fernando's body, fighting his young tightness and tears and his overwhelming want. Iker sinks back against the wall as Fernando settles down full on his cock and Fernando wraps his arms around Iker's neck, their mouths meeting almost tenderly. "God I just don't wanna cry no more. I just want it to stop hurting."

Iker thrusts slowly, rocking with Fernando's body and they both move with it and maybe they've done this a couple of times, a few times, fucked like this, moments so quick and hot and dry that they felt like dreams, the ache of Iker's cock in the morning and the slickness running down Fernando's thigh the only evidence. He holds Fernando's face with both hands, his thumbs coaxing his mouth open wide so he can claim it, licking deep inside and Fernando rides him hard, shivering with a hard jolt when one of Iker's hands abandons its worship of his face to wrap around his cock.

"God, I can still taste him. Right there in your mouth. Right here." Iker licks at the corner of Fernando's mouth and he would put his life on it that the taste is Sergio, Sergio's sweet come caught on Fernando's summer dusted skin. Fernando keeps his mouth open and lets Iker feed from him, lets him suck on the seam of his mouth, at his chin. "Anything. I'd do anything for him. God why doesn't he know? Why doesn't he know, Nando?"

"Go find him," Fernando gasps, caught on Iker's cock at just the right angle and Iker is beating up into him, stretching him out in what feels like permanence and god he's gonna come inside of him again, again after Fernando had said never again, never (fourth time). "Bring him home. Bring him back to us. We can all be together, Iker. We can work it out. We can love each other. All of us. Can't we? The four of us?"

"Yes. Yes. Fuck," Iker pulls and pushes Fernando on his cock, about to come so hard that it already hurts just for the mere thought, the thought of bliss, of happiness, of maybe having what he wants. Maybe. "Come with me? Come when I come inside of you."

Fernando pushes up tight against him, licking his lips like he can taste it when he feels Iker unloading in him, that warmth pushing through him and he dribbles out a gasping orgasm across Iker's fingers, coming from deep in his guts and they're clutching at each other, tucking and holding and they're rocking by the time they've both come down, sitting there on the hardwood floor of Iker's childhood room, remnants of his life strewn about them, rocking. Iker rubs Fernando's back until he falls asleep, pretending he doesn't hear David's bedroom door close, pretending he can't feel the ghost of a body standing outside his door, listening, hearing it all.

 

\---

 

"Ten more hours 'til we get there! Thierry said he's making me a big dinner. God, I love his cooking. So, so good." Cesc sighs happily, munching on a sticky orange Cheeto. Sergio runs his fingers over his fresh words in his journal, unable to do anything but frown. Cesc licks his lips and then his fingers, looking first at his chip bag and then at Sergio who hasn't said a word since they left Georgia. "Want the rest?"

"No. Thank you." Sergio pushes his temple against the cool window, eyes lifted to watch the passing landscape, to catch the moon and hold sight of it for as long as he can. Cesc glances over Sergio's notebook and sees both Iker and Fernando's names. He watches Sergio for a few beats before he braves to speak again.

"Why are you running away?"

Sergio pulls Iker's hoodie around his body, closing his notebook and hiding it in the pocket of the seat in front of his own. He covers his hands with his sleeves and returns his gaze outside, not replying because he doesn't know. He's never really known.


	24. Chapter 24

The truth is that Sergio has never slept well outside of a bed. He accepts it as part of his fate, of his unknowing self-punishment, and he realizes it fully now that he's back in an upright position in a small, unsympathetic chair the color of blue jeans. He rests his head against the glass but it vibrates too much. He tries to lean forward and rest against the chair in front of him but it hurts too quickly. He sits back and sighs, near tears in his exhaustion, in his frustration. He glances over at Cesc and finds his eyes on him, big and dark and ready with too many words for Sergio's mood. He deflates too quickly, his shoulders dropping along with his eyes.

"Can I ask a favor?"

Cesc shrugs, settled back in the chair and somehow looking right at home in such a terrible contraption as a Greyhound bus.

"Sure."

"Can..." Sergio takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, to remind himself that Cesc isn't the enemy, that he's more familiar than anything at this point and that he's really, really, really goddamn tired. "Can I rest against your shoulder? Please?"

Cesc nearly laughs for the simplicity of the request and for how apparently painful it had been for Sergio to ask. He shrugs again and then lowers his shoulder, trying to make it look as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah. 'Course. Want me to roll up my jacket to use as a pillow?"

Sergio shakes his head, shifting down in the seat until his cheek is level with the curve of Cesc's shoulder and he rests there against him, stiff at first but he relaxes when he realizes that Cesc really doesn't seem to mind, that he's not going to make fun of him for this. He rests more fully against him, his cheek sliding further in on Cesc's shoulder until he's truly (relatively) comfortable. Cesc waits for a few beats before lifting his arm and wrapping it around Sergio's shoulders, his fingers taking up a gentle, lazy petting on Sergio's neck. Sergio lets out a sudden, loud rush of air that sounds almost painful and when Cesc glances over at him, he finds Sergio's eyes closed tightly, tears caught at the corners of them.

"Sergio?"

"Can I sleep first, Cesc? Please?" His voice is raw, like he's been screaming all night, or maybe like he hasn't spoken in a few years. His voice sounds lonely, Cesc decides, and the realization makes him pull Sergio closer, pet him more gently as he nods.

 

\--

 

Cesc is snoring rather loudly when Sergio wakes up, to the point that it's the _reason_ Sergio wakes up. He glances around the bus, nervous and bleary-eyed and looks away quickly when he finds several pairs of eyes on them. He elbows Cesc a little, gentle at first and harder when he doesn't respond. Cesc sits up with a comical snort, looking around at everyone on the bus, giving a meek smile and a wave, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry."

He looks over at Sergio who is gathering his hair in his hands, pulling and wrestling with it until he can get it in a manageable ponytail and he carefully ties a strip of fabric (which seems to match Sergio's shirt) around it. Sergio looks over at him, not sure what to say because he's still embarrassed for how closely he was snuggled up to Cesc when he woke up.

"Hey."

"Hey," Cesc replies easily, dragging a hand through the top of his head before letting out a gasping yawn. He smacks his lips a few times and then settles back against the seat, his eyes falling closed once again. "You ever think about cutting it off?"

"My hair?"

"No, your dick."

He gets another elbow to the ribs but it's not nearly as careful this time. He wheezes and holds his side and grins without opening his eyes to see Sergio's glare.

"Maybe. Sometimes."

"I can do it. When we get to New Orleans." He says New Orleans funny, just like they do in movies. Sergio rolls the words around on his tongue before he processes the entire sentence, his heart racing a little just for the thought.

"I don't... no. I don't think so. It's not time."

"Why? Because you're afraid you won't be pretty anymore?"

Sergio frowns and it's rather delicate on his face.

"I don't think I'm pretty right now."

Cesc actually cracks an eye open for that, peering at Sergio in complete distrust.

"Shut up."

Sergio's eyebrows lift up and he blinks and it's so infuriatingly beautiful that Cesc jostles him away. Sergio frowns even harder and his cheeks flush when he realizes that's Cesc's way of complimenting him. Sergio reaches for his notebook, not opening it but running his fingers over it, over the familiar little ridges in the leather cover, over the worn edges and the bits of memories that hang out past the given paper.

"It doesn't matter how it makes me look," he replies quietly, his eyes down, sad. Cesc has never seen anyone look as sad as Sergio can. "It just means too much. I have too much invested."

"Where'd that new white fabric come from?"

"What?"

"That," Cesc points patiently, touching the dingy white fabric that is nearly hidden under the weight of his hair. "It's new."

"Nowhere," Sergio mumbles, not used to talking about this, not really used to talking to anyone. He runs his fingers over his pen now, digging at the cap with his nail. He looks out the window and wonders vaguely where they are, how far they are from Blairsville. Wonders what he's done back in that warm house, how many tears he's caused this morning.

"It's from Nando, isn't it?"

Sergio's eyes snap closed like he's been punched in the stomach and he pushes tighter against the window, farther from Cesc.

"Don't... just. Don't."

"I just don't understand. I don't understand how you can run away like you do. 'Specially when you've got two people that are in love with you."

"It's not about that."

"Well what's it about?"

"Why are you asking this? You don't actually care."

Cesc shrugs and it's such a fitting gesture for him, Sergio decides. Cesc curls down and digs his knees into the back of the seat in front of him without any regard for the sleeping man in the seat. His eyes close again.

"We gotta talk about something. Might as well be this."

"I haven't known Nando for very long."

"I know. He made you help him break out of jail."

Sergio manages a smile for that.

"That's not exactly true."

"That's what he said. He said he got thrown into jail and you were his cellmate. He said that he would watch you in the shower and he dropped the soap three times in front of him before you'd even look over at him. He said he charmed you into helping him."

Sergio actually laughs then and it's so earnest that he's sheepish, a hand lifting to cover his smile. He shakes his head fondly, eyes returning outside.

"He's a storyteller. A very good one."

"He also said he's never loved anybody like he loves you."

Sergio's smile fades.

"That's probably true."

Cesc lets that settle between them for a moment, actually considering his next question before asking it.

"How could you leave him? If he loves you so much?"

"I can't..." Sergio takes a deep breath that turns shallow quickly, stopped by the tightness in his chest. "I can't just _stay_ there forever. I just can't. Can you see me just living on that farm forever? What would I do? How would I... would I..."

"Would you what?"

"Do... do _anything_? How would I play music for people? How would I see new places? How would I keep growing? Discovering?"

"Well. It's not like it's a prison. You could still do that stuff. The difference is that you go home at the end."

"I don't have a home," Sergio replies and it's sorrowful, it's heavy and honest and tired.

"Your dad must have been really bad to you." Cesc lowers his voice when he says this, moving closer to Sergio so that he can rest his own cheek on his shoulder. Sergio nods just once, his eyes glittering with tears but he refuses to blink, refuses to acknowledge them. "Do you miss your mom?"

Sergio nods more then, tears falling without his consent and he swallows hard. "Yeah," he croaks, an unflattering sound from such a lovely voice and he clears his throat. "So much. So, so much."

"Do you call her?"

Sergio shakes his head, his hands in a tight grip on his notebook now, almost wringing it. Cesc wants to reach over and loosen his hands but he doesn't.

"Iker would do anything for you. He loves you."

"Stop," Sergio whispers, one word that is a quiet plea. Cesc does reach over then, fighting Sergio's grip on his journal and he laces their fingers together, takes the abuse into his own hand. "Please stop."

"When are you going to stop running, Sergio? When is it going to be over?"

"I don't know how."

"Do you get scared?"

Sergio nods hard, his jaw clenched so tight that Cesc imagines his teeth cracking, breaking, falling right out of that soft mouth.

"Of love?"

Sergio lets out a breath of a laugh that eases his chest immediately but not enough. He sniffles into his sleeve, muffling the sound, the evidence of his pain.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do."

"What are you afraid is gonna happen though?"

"That I lose myself? That I lose my drive, my dreams? That I lose my music, my just... need to see everything. I want to see everything. _Everything_ , Cesc. And... and Iker isn't like that. He wants a family. He wants to come home every night to the same house, to the same person. To the same life. He wants everything that isn't me."

"Have you ever asked him?"

"Asked him what?"

"To come with you? Sometimes?"

Sergio smiles to the sunrise and he shakes his head, unknowingly comforted by Cesc holding his hand.

"He never would. He's always been too busy. School and work and he volunteers and he just... he does so many good things wherever he is. He has his own dreams, his own goals. I can't be the one to take that away from him. He's worked too hard for it."

"What about Nando?"

Sergio actually pauses then, letting thoughts drift through his mind, emotions through his skin. He's quiet for so long that Cesc wonders if he's fallen asleep.

"He'd come wherever I asked. And he'd love me no matter what."

"But?"

"But it's not all about me. It's about him, too. And he's finally home. He's finally... healing. You know? He's finding his own peace."

"So... you're all too young, is that what you're saying? You're all too busy to have love right now?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Cesc is quiet this time, waiting a few beats before

"All this time I thought you were so selfish. That you were using both of them."

Sergio's chest lifts in a silent laugh and he gives Cesc a smile.

"And now?"

"And now..." Cesc gives Sergio's hand a squeeze, a little smile out of the corner of his eyes to soften the blow of his words. "Now I know that you don't even have enough of yourself for _you_ , let alone one of them. And definitely not both of them."

"And how am I supposed to fix that?"

Cesc laughs then, lifting his hand to motion to the air and he lifts Sergio's with him. "Fuck, I don't know. I'm just a stupid kid. And I'm going home to my brother's ex-boyfriend who fucked me once and I maybe might have sabotaged their relationship so I could have him for myself. I have my own problems."

Sergio blinks over at him, his eyebrows near his hairline now. Cesc gives him his best innocent smile but Sergio isn't buying it.

"Explain."

"Later," Cesc yawns, snuggling in closer to Sergio and their bodies are much more relaxed around each other this time around. "We've still got seven fucking more hours. Gotta save at least _some_ of the good stuff for later."

 

\--

 

Iker hasn't driven this truck in years. David had insisted that he do so, though, and after nearly half an hour of persuasion (of apologies, of tears, of confessions and a deep, solid fuck against the wall that has left Iker a little too sore to be sitting on his ass for the nine hours it will take him to get to New Orleans), David had managed to get the keys in Iker's hand and two goodbye kisses to his mouth, one from him and one from his sleep-soft baby brother. Iker is confident the truck will get him to New Orleans and back, much more sure of this truck than that godforsaken van (full of memories, filled to the brim with them), but he feels like he's trespassing, invading David's personal space when it's not his place to be invading it anymore. (Even though it is, it always will be. David is forever and he knows that now, has always known that, somewhere.)

He's nearly in Atlanta by noon and he regrets his timing almost immediately because he hits traffic ten minutes outside of the city. He rolls the window down all the way, already dripping with sweat in the dead of a Georgia summer, so hot that he defies his own modesty and takes his t-shirt off, leaving him in only his jeans but he's not out of place, not even near Atlanta. He'd packed a single bag with one change of clothes and a couple pairs of underwear for himself and a few smaller things from his younger days for Sergio. Just the thought of him strikes him where he is, his jaw setting even harder as he stares at the sea of cars in front of him.

"What the fuck are you going to say to him, Casillas," he mutters to himself, a hand resting on his forehead to block out some of the sun. "How are you even gonna find him? You ain't ever even been to New Orleans."

He rubs his eyes, rubs at the dark circles under them and then rubs the scruff of his beard that has started to grow over the last few days (Sergio had loved it, the scratch of it on his cheeks, on his stomach, on the tender silk of his inner thighs) before he turns his gaze to the silent radio. He flips it on, turning the dial to search for a local station that doesn't completely repulse him. As much as he hates to admit it, he misses Fernando already, misses his constant words, his incessant opinions, his exuberance to control the music every single second. He passes up the fifteen country stations and the ten Top 40 stations and he pauses when he hears a quiet, whispery indie song, the voice alone enough to make him stop.

 

_This could well be the last time I see your beautiful hands_   
_your frozen hands, your trembling hands that could not hold on_   
_to any heart that's warm, to any lie that's cold_   
_your hands were made to burn in the sun_

His eyes fill with immediate tears and his hand is resting against his forehead once again, moving with traffic but he's not paying attention, doesn't realize anything that's happening because he can only feel Sergio, can only see his dark eyes and wonder if he's really ever going to again. It feels like this could be an honest last time, a last goodbye. Tears fall unnoticed as he forces his way into Atlanta, words gathering on his tongue, pushing up his throat from his heart so fast that they burn his throat.

"I know that I'm not enough. I know you need more than I am, but I want you to have it all. You can have him, too. Because... because I love him, too. And I love David. You know that, right? I'm sorry I never told you about him. It never felt right. It never felt right to bring anyone else up to you because you were always so much more than anybody when you were right there in front of me. You're more than anybody I've ever met. Nobody loves like you, Sergio. God, nobody's ever loved me like you do."

He hears a horn blast from behind him and he realizes that he's sitting in the middle of the road and that traffic has moved up quite a bit since he last looked. He looks in his rearview and waves an apology out the window before speeding up, tears slipping down his whiskered, tired face, a face that wants nothing more than to be held in two dark, healing hands.

 

\--

 

He stops and gets gas on exit 57 in Auburn, Alabama and he feels so much closer, he feels the heat of Louisiana so near like the sun, like a volcano, like Sergio himself. He pays in cash because David gave him some, way too much, if he's being honest, but he's grateful for it. He buys a coffee and a pre-packaged ham and cheese sandwich and crosses the parking lot to the truck again, taking his time because he's not looking forward to his lonely late lunch, he's lonely in his own head and wanting too much, wanting comfort, wanting a good meal, wanting to hold and be held, wanting more than he's going to find here in Auburn. He eats his sandwich in the truck, chewing each bite carefully and drinking half of his coffee, stepping out of the truck once more to walk around the side of the building and piss out of sight of everyone. He thinks about when he and Fernando would have contests to see who could piss the furthest and he laughs to himself, not really thinking about the fact that he now looks like that crazy guy who laughs at his own piss around the side of the gas station. He's still smiling by the time he gets back into the truck, starting it up and pulling out.

By the time he gets to Mobile, he's ready to pull his hair out.

"Welcome to Mobile. To fucking Mobi-- how the fuck am I still in Alafuckingbama? Goddamn fucking state. Sergio, boy, you'd better be naked and covered in honey by the time I find you. Have the jar with you so I can..." He trails off, lost in his own thoughts and in his newly attentive cock. "Mm."

"Will you let me have you? Even if you tell me that you don't want to come home? Just one last time. Just lay under me one more time. The best feeling in the world is your thighs against my ribs. Well... you feel even better inside. But you know that. God, I know I always tell you that. My little fire. Never wanna call you that around Nando. Don't want him to have another nickname to call you."

He falls quiet, his eyes taking in the scenery around him, the heaviness of the trees on either side of him, the inevitable incoming of swampland, the thick, suffocating heat that is Louisiana in the summer.

"This weather feels like you. So hot I can barely breathe. That's how you like it, isn't it? You like everything that hot, that thick. God, that sounds dirty, doesn't it?" He smiles to himself, reaching up to almost shyly scratch the back of his head. "You make me horny even when you're not here. That's kinda pathetic on my part, isn't it?

Do you want a list, Serg? You want me to give you a list why you should come home? Why I love you? I'll make you a list. I'll make you ten lists. I just need you home. It... it hasn't felt that much like home in so long. It felt like I was bringing both of my worlds together when I had you there. I had you in my bed. Do you know how important that was to me? Do you even know? Do you know how I felt coming into my room and seeing you in my bed, under my sheets? Hearing your voice in that room, taking you outside and showing you my life. I thought..." He swallows hard, his voice dropping in strength, words crackling in his throat. "I thought you liked it. I thought maybe you felt it, too. Like I had given you a home. Like my mama loved you good enough. She does love you, by the way. She told me so. She almost cried that night when she told me. She even told me she was happy for me because she saw how I acted around you. I didn't know I acted different around you. I just feel like I get to be more myself with you. Like when you get to sleep in your own bed after spending weeks and weeks sleeping in a stranger's bed, or in... in a fucking van. You feel like that first night sleeping in my bed again. God, I'm so fucking cheesy."

He sighs, quiet in his embarrassment, in his thankfulness that Sergio couldn't actually hear him, hear his fumbling ramble.

"I just feel like I could make you happy, beautiful. Like... really happy. Not just for the night, or the day. But forever, you know? I think that me and Nando together, that we can definitely get close. God, I should have brought him, shouldn't I've? If you saw him, you wouldn't be able to say no. I'm old news. Seeing me isn't going to be some big revelation for you. It's not gonna change anything. I can't... I'm not enough, am I? I thought we had an understanding. That I meant as much to you as you do to me. I thought that's how we would be. " He doesn't speak for a long while, not until he's out of the state, until he's actually in Louisiana, his heart burning for the closeness, he can feel it. He can absolutely feel it.

"Just tell me what to do. I want to be a man for you, a good man."

The Welcome to Louisiana sign looks like heaven to him, shrouded in thick kudzu and the air feels pregnant now, dense with the fragrant dampness of swamps, of ancient stories, of the miles and miles between him and his gypsy.

"I want to be your good man."


	25. Chapter 25

Iker arrives in New Orleans a ghost. He drifts from his car toward the bus station and can't recall how he found it, or who he had spoken to to get directions. Summer is fully born in New Orleans and the air is thick with it, with the smell of dirt between stone, of courtyards of flowers and angels and millions upon millions of stories, half of which are love stories, none of which are exactly like his own. He's never felt weather like this, never breathed air like this. It makes him feel crazy and desperate and by the time he gets into the station, his fingers are shaking at his sides and he cannot contain his disappointment when he covers every foot of the station in search of him and does not find him.

"Ex-excuse me. Excuse me? Have you seen..." He stops and stares blankly at the man in front of him, the one who looks half drunk or half asleep or maybe both, the one who now has an eye cracked open and is staring at him with it. Iker swallows, his fingers running over the keyring in his palm. "Um." Have you seen Sergio? He's the love of my life. Well, one of them. I may have two. Or three. I may be a despicable human being who can't make choices but I really need to see him anyway. "..Sorry."

The man tucks himself back in his metal chair, glaring at Iker with both eyes before he closes them again, slumping back to sleep and Iker lets out a deep breath he'd been holding. He grits his hands and his teeth, the keys digging into his skin. He hasn't thought this far into it and he realizes at this very moment that he's stupid, he's so stupid, he's so blindly optimistic and stupid and this is where it leaves him. In a bus station in New Orleans, Louisiana in the middle of summer. He digs for change in his pocket, tears burning at the corners of his eyes because all he can think is that he needs to call David, he needs to hear his voice and get his reassurance and advice and the second he touches change his eyes light on the front desk. His eyes widen and he nearly jogs over to the desk, planting his hands flat down on the counter and he clears his throat to get the girl's attention.

"Excuse me, m'am," he drawls, making his northern Georgia accent as noticeably charming as possible, "I was hoping maybe you could help me."

The girl looks up at him, her thickly lined eyes heavy with boredom but she raises an eyebrow at the handsome man now in front of her. She even stops texting long enough to reply.

"What were ya needin'?"

"You see, two of my friends came through this station probably no more than..." He glances at his wrist where there is no watch, giving his best casual shrug. "An hour ago. Two maybe. And I was supposed to meet 'em here but I think they just went straight to our other friend's house. Are you followin' me?"

She nods, chewing on her lip, giving him an obvious once over that he chooses to ignore.

"The problem is, you see, that I'm not from here. At all. Bet you couldn't tell, right?" He flashes her a shy grin, one that brightens up her cheeks and his heart soars with the encouragement. "And anyway, I don't have his address to meet them. So I was wondering if maybe you could look in your computer there and give me the address the tickets were bought under."

"Two boys, you say?"

"Yeah. Yeah, two boys. They're... they're young. Teenagers. One's a little one, skinny little thing, kinda pale, big eyes that look like those Precious Moments drawin's. You remember those?"

She laughs, a sharp, silvery sound and nods.

"And the other one's... he's... he looks kinda like if you crossed Jack Sparrow with Adonis. You know who Adonis is?"

"Hmm-mm."

"Well, it doesn't matter. But... but do you recall them? At all?"

"Couldn't miss those two. They came in and met a beautiful Creole man. Tall, dark, skin about as dark as mine."

Iker gives her a wry smile, playing at interest, at flirtation though he's feeling more desperate by the minute.

"You're Creole, too?"

"You better believe it, darlin'.

"Do you happen to remember his name?"

She shifts in her chair, making a show of looking around, of pushing her arms closer to her body to make her cleavage fuller.

"I could get fired for givin' out that kind of information."

Iker's face falls.

"Oh."

"If I'm gonna risk gettin' fired, it's gotta be worth it."

Iker just stares at her, weighing his options, trying to play out the possibilities of outcomes in his head.

"What do you want?"

She narrows her eyes at him, her voice dropping to a husked whisper and he has to lean forward to even hear her.

"I'll take my break in five minutes. I have a half hour. We can go to my car. And I'll get you the name and address right after."

Iker takes a deep breath, his heart racing with guilt and trepidation.

"I get the name and address _before_. And you've got condoms, right?"

She nods without a thought.

His shoulders droop just a little as he runs a hand through his hair, loathing himself more than he ever has in his life.

"Deal."

 

\---

 

Cesc is still clinging to Thierry even after they get to his apartment off the Rue Royale in the Quarter. He'd attacked him at the station, attached to his body and his mouth and Sergio had watched in numbed silence as they reunited. The car ride over hadn't been much different, and by the time they get to the apartment, he feels as far from Iker as he's ever been. Thierry walks around opens the door for Cesc and is greeted with another wet, hungry kiss, one that makes Sergio actually sigh out loud. He opens his own door and steps out onto the sidewalk. He looks around, immediately falling in love with the vague smell of decaying wood, of the sun baking the streets, with the weight of the wrought-iron balconies overflowing with long, vining greenery. He stands, dumbfounded, too distracted to even notice Thierry and Cesc anymore.

"Wow."

Thierry draws away from Cesc to glance over at his weird friend, following his gaze around the neighborhood and he smiles a little.

"Pretty nice, huh? I used to live out more in da' swamps but _some_ body made _some_ body else mad and you know what they did?" Thierry says this to Cesc more than to Sergio, his eyes comically wide but half-serious and Cesc beams at him, looking like a moony-eyed, worshipful child as he shakes his head.

"He burned down my house!"

Cesc gasps and it's a sound so dramatic it could feel a theater.

"Who did?!"

"Your brother, the little shit! Right after you done left. He couldn't find me 'cause I was over at a... ah. A friend's house for a few days and he thought we'd ran away together n'so he torched my house! Came home to nothin' but some ashes and a few singed books."

Cesc just stares at him in shock, his mouth in a perfect little O and it makes Thierry smile. He kisses him with a wet smack of lips and he turns his attention back to Sergio.

"And anyway, I had to do somethin'. So I came into th' city and called in some favors and here I am. You need me to carry anything? That guitar?" He reaches for it as Sergio hoists his bag onto his shoulder but Sergio takes a polite step back, forcing a smile onto his lips.

"No. Thank you. I can manage. Um. Which apartment is yours?"

Thierry grins, closing the trunk and making sure his door is locked before stepping up onto the sidewalk, leading them toward the little bakery downstairs from his apartment. "You in a hurry, sug?"

"I'm just... I'm just tired. I don't ever do well on buses." Sergio follows him and Cesc into the bakery and his stomach twists in on itself at the scent of fresh bread, garlic and rosemary and butter and just _bread_ , a smell he realizes reminds him of Iker's mom, of her fresh rolls with every meal because she's a huge believer in bread as nourishment for the soul. He smiles a little to himself, ignoring his hunger to focus on the stairs up to Thierry's apartment.

"I have so many stories, Titi. So many things I need to tell you and ask you and do to you." Cesc drops his voice for the last three words but the staircase is small and Sergio hears him and lets out an inward sigh. He waits patiently for Thierry to find his right key and unlock the complicated, ancient door and he opens it to an apartment that is mostly bare with little bits and twists of flavor, of personality and he wonders to himself what that nearly mystical house in the swamps had looked like.

"You want something to eat before I drag you into my bed? Hm?" Thierry kisses Cesc, lifting him up with absolutely no effort onto his body and his grin to Sergio nearly earns him a smile in return. "How 'bout you, _cher_? You hungry?"

"No," he lies, a small, sad smile on his face. He sets down his things and goes about peeling off his layers, Iker's hoodie and two shirts and his boots, so used to being bare since he was at Iker's place, so used to not having to be ready to run. "Do you have a balcony?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, kid, right through those curtains." He nods to the right of Sergio, unsure of how to treat this boy, really.

"I want some lovin' before I get some food. Please? I missed you so much so much." Cesc slides both hands down Thierry's arm to clasp his fingers and tug him backwards with all of his body weight (which, admittedly, was not that effectual) toward the bedroom.

"There's a couple of blankets there on the couch, and a pillow. There's cable and uh, I got some books right over there." He nods at the bookcase cram-packed with paperback novels and weird, ancient-looking leatherbound books. Sergio has to drag his eyes away from them. "Food in the fridge... make yourself at home, arrite?"

Sergio nods distantly, his long fingers digging at his bracelets. Cesc rolls his eyes and gives one more strong tug, his smile as big and as bright as Christmas and Sergio has never seen Cesc quite like this.

"He's fine! Why does everybody coddle him? What do I have to do to get some attention, huh? Dread up my hair and pout with a guitar in my hand?"

Sergio finally meets Cesc's eyes for the first time since they left the train station and he glares as hard as he has the energy for.

"Don't. Okay? Just... don't."

Cesc glares right back and gives Thierry one more tug, this one working and before Sergio knows it he's alone in the middle of a vaguely sunny, dusty little apartment with a fan stirring in the corner, moving the heat around in the livingroom but doing little else. He sits down on the edge of the coffeetable and rubs at his eyes immediately, wiping away the tears before they even fall so that they're aborted, non-existant. He keeps his knuckles pressed tight against his eyes until it hurts, his mind spinning with so many things, with strange and absurd things like distance and geography, how maps make the world seem so cleancut, so simple to navigate but he knows without question that Iker is farther away from him than anything has ever been from anything else, that Fernando is as close as the center of the earth is to the farthest moon of the very farthest planet, that distance cannot be conveyed on a flat piece of paper, that distance is felt in tugs in the veins, distance is measured by how much it hurts to get from one place to another, that time exists only when you're alone. He sniffles and it's loud even in the thick air of the apartment and it snaps him out of it, drags him back to what he's made his life into, back into this second and this second and he stands up, pushing his dreads back, his face cold with tears and it's a comfort, really. He grabs the pillow from the couch and Iker's hoodie and he makes his way over to the curtains that hide the balcony and he pushes and unlocks until he's outside and he closes the door back, not caring even if he locks himself out here. He romantically imagines living here, just right here, overlooking this small part of the quarter, the cathedral so very close by, so many people down there living lives that he will never know, thinking thoughts he will never hear, hiding wisdom that he needs so badly. He sits down, his fingers tracing over the wrought iron and he's reminded of Fernando and New York City and pizza and forgiveness and how painfully beautiful love can be.

Love.

He feels the tears again and he bites down on inside of his cheek until they dissipate. He looks around the quarter, taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly, tasting the air and he realizes the difference between New Orleans and every other city he's been to, that New Orleans (or at least his New Orleans, this ancient quarter) smells of wood and not of concrete, it smells of stone and of flowers. It's impossible that it exists, really, and that he's existing in it. He hears a voice singing in the distance, a voice accompanied by a guitar and maybe a harmonica and he smiles, his first real smile in too long. He lies down on his side, head tucked against the pillow and his arms tangled with the hoodie and he falls asleep just like that, his ears filled with delta blues and the din of a neighborhood in the middle of its day, the sun baking on his skin and warming him the way he always craves to be warm and he dreams of the only thing he's dreamt of since leaving Georgia, Iker's bed and Fernando's eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

"Please take seconds, boys. Please. I made all this food and I'm..." Judy pauses, tears in her tired eyes and she sighs, sitting back down in her chair and gripping her napkin hard in her hand. Her hands are small and bony-knuckled and Fernando thinks of Iker's hands and how he must have gotten his father's. "I just hope he's alright. Are you sure nothing bad happened? Why would he just get up and leave like that?"

David's mouth is in a thin line and he's frowning as he tries to shovel down as many fried potatoes and peas as he can, trying to decide if he can stomach another pork chop. He gulps down the rest of his milk and Judy is immediately on her feet, hand on the refrigerator handle before David can finish swallowing. "Iker said that's just how he is, that he gets restless and he can't sit still. He's been doing this for a few years."

Judy frowns just as hard as David as she pours him more milk, her eyes tired and troubled and she shakes her head the whole way back to the fridge.

"Someone's hurt that boy. I could see it in his eyes. Someone's hurt him bad. He duddn't know how to take real love, does he? Doesn't know what a real family is like." She strokes the top of Fernando's head, idly working out some of the knots in his ever-lengthening hair. Fernando stares down at his plate, not hungry anymore because of the topic, because that's his Magic they're talking about and he can't even claim him.

"No, m'am," David replies sadly, glancing over at Fernando and his heart sinks. He drinks half of his new glass of milk and he wipes his mouth quickly, dropping his napkin on the plate, his signal for being done. "When are the kids coming home, Mrs. Casillas?"

"Don't know, hon. You know how kids are in the summertime. They'd live in the trees, if I'd let 'em. Here, baby, I'll save your plate in the fridge. Yours, too, Nando. Don't mind me. You boys get up." She takes both of their plates, her own still untouched and cold on the table but she doesn't seem to notice, even as she opens the drawer to pull out the aluminum foil. Fernando looks over to David for help and David gives him a small smile as he stands up, slow in his movements, obviously feeling guilty about getting up but Judy always gets her way, especially where David is concerned.

"Here, Miss Judith. I'll warm yours up in the microwave. Nando, cover those plates and put 'em in the fridge, okay? Miss Judith, sit down here. You've been workin' all day and you deserve a break. Sit on down." He guides her into her chair and kisses her cheek as he takes her plate, watching as Fernando covers the plates carefully, always so deliberate when he's given instructions, always wants to do everything right. He smiles over at him fondly.

"Miss Judith, would you mind terribly if me 'n' Chickpea slept up in the barnloft tonight?"

Fernando turns around, his eyes wide with surprise, with immediate happiness.

"You boys go on ahead. Make sure to close that fridge tight, honey, it's been stickin' lately. There's some extra blankets in the hall closet. Make sure to bundle up up there! It still gets chilly at night, alright?"

David grins as he takes the plate out and places it in front of Judy, his eyes on Fernando.

"I'll keep him warm."

 

\--

 

"Davey, it ain't winter!" Fernando laughs when David finally appears at the top of the ladder with an explosion of blankets and he throws them straight at Fernando who falls back laughing, covered in softness and cotton and then there's David's weight, his hands pulling the blankets back and his eyes and Fernando strains up for his mouth, kissing him full and soft like it's natural, like it's not making his heart tremor or his insides twist up tight as a guitar string. David pulls back after the kiss, his eyes softer now, smiling as he tugs Fernando to sit up again.

"You remember our nights up here, 'pea? We spent at least a year total, didn't we?" David goes about his ritual of making their bed up and Fernando pushes himself to the side, leaning back against the wooden wall to watch him spread the blankets on top of each other one by one, his eyes far-off and heavy with love.

"Must've. And you were such a good scavenger, always managed to keep it warm and get me some food and make me fall asleep laughing." Fernando's smile is wistful when David looks up and they don't look away for a long moment. "And you always waked me up so sweet, just hugged me tighter until it woke me up. Just your arms and your voice. What a way to wake up."

"And my bad morning breath." David plops down in the middle of the plush little bed, two blankets spread out to serve as covers and he tugs the pillows over, smoothing his hand over the bed to deem it finished. Fernando gets up without a word to sit next to him, both of them turned toward each other, indian-style and slouching.

"'Davey, you 'member that time when you built me a swing in that field out there? You said nobody went out there and you made me a swing. I was too damn big for a swing, wasn't I? Like fucking... twelve years old or somethin'!" Fernando leans forward to laugh even as David smirks and gives him a little shove.

"You wuddn't _that_ old. Maybe ten."

"We haven't been comin' here that long, Davey."

"No? Hm." David is lost in thought and Fernando watches him, looks down to admire David's hands, his work-callouses, the veins in his arms, the muscles lying in wait in them. He runs his fingers over David's, smoothing over the tough skin, the scars, the fine hairs. David's face falls lax and he looks down to watch him, everything silent but the cicadas and the flame of the hurricane lamp and the wind in a Georgia summer night. Fernando pushes his fingers up over his wrists when he's done with his hands, rubbing and adoring in quiet, his eyes focused, tender.

"You're a man now. Ain't you?"

David doesn't answer. He turns his hands, spreading his fingers so that his palms are revealed, open to Fernando, allowing him whatever he wants. Fernando brings those hands closer to his face, kissing them lightly after he's done studying them, memorizing wrinkles, the shape of the moons on Davey's fingernails, the width of his fingers. David cups his face with those hands and draws him in for another kiss, this one more intense, pulling warmth from Fernando's body into his own. Fernando moans, surging closer to him, his own hands now on David's thin shirt, his fingers wrapped in it to hold onto him. They part and breathe toward each other, foreheads pressed and their hands find each other again, clasped between their bodies.

"You know this ain't right, Davey."

David responds with a kiss to Fernando's chin.

"And?"

"And..." Fernando trails off, his head tilting to the side as David's mouth pushes past his lips toward his cheek where it comes to life again to kiss down his neck, his sheer skill in it enough to send goosebumps all over Fernando's body. "And that don't bother you? What people would say?"

"No. Why would it? I can love you any way I want, and any way you want, and it ain't nobody else's goddamn business." He peels Fernando's shirt off to punctuate his point, pushing Fernando to lie back on the pillows. He gazes down at him once he's settled, eyes trailing over the bird-fragile bones of his shoulders and his chest, the dusty rose of his nipples and the freckles strewn all over him, like sprinkles on a cupcake. He runs the lightest fingers from Fernando's cheek down his entire body, pausing below his belly button to travel back up, enjoying every shiver and gasp and jolt from Fernando. He reaches for Fernando's hands again and he gathers those thin wrists in his fingers just like Iker had once, pushing his arms up and he leans down to press his nose under Fernando's arm, soft brown hair tickling his nostrils and he just breathes him, his baby, his chickpea, and god he still smells the same somehow, against all reason. He kisses under his arm now, kissing all over, wet, hungry kisses and Fernando cries out, wriggling in David's grasp and pushing up into him, trying to beg but he can't, can never beg from his Davey, still too shy, too unsure. Too his.

He sobs into his arm when he feels one of David's strong hands find its way between his legs, fingers cupping so he can rub Fernando through his pants, trapping his cock between his palm and his thigh and Fernando is getting off on it, he's getting off so fucking hard and he's so close, he's so close and it's been this way for years and he's so close because of that, because of all of it.

"Big boy dick. God, you're such a big boy, aren't you, chickpea? All grown up right here?" He squeezes and Fernando convulses, straining up toward David in a hard, pleading arch. "So beautiful, baby. You've always been so beautiful to me. Perfect to me."

"Davey."

He's weak in everything but his need and with it he pulls David down on top of him, trapping his hand between their bodies but it's enough, David's weight and his sudden mouth on Fernando's and his hard cock against Fernando's soft thin stomach is enough to make Fernando come thick and endless inside of his pants, against David's furiously rubbing hand, the hand that brings him down from orgasm as surely as it took him there, the hand that cups the back of Fernando's head so their mouths can stay together for the headiest kiss of either of their lives, a kiss that makes them both dizzy as they burrow under the blankets, Fernando trying to catch his breath and David trying, as always, to restrain himself. Fernando sighs into David's neck, his arms settled around his neck.

"It don't bother me neither."


	27. Chapter 27

New Orleans is set up like an old city, like most cities in the States aren't, it's set up with plazas and squares and streets that lead to them, it's set up like European cities that Iker has never been to, and as he slowly drives her streets with a small, worn map in his hand given to him by Gabriela, the beautiful Creole girl whose skin he'd licked and kissed more out of duty than any kind of lust no matter how beautiful she had been with her dark, dusky skin and delicate French nose and her wild hair and turquoise eyes, he realizes that he doesn't know a goddamn thing about this world. He feels drained and achy and he doesn't know what street he's looking for, he doesn't understand the layout here, and most importantly, he hadn't realized how fucking long Magazine Street is. He's near tears after about twenty minutes of driving straight and he squints down at the map, exhaustion making him a little shaky, much more impatient than he is in his normal life.

"Should've taken Rampart. She told you to take Rampart, you dick. No. You had to take Magazine."

He can almost hear Fernando's voice, his nagging, his smartass tone that is entirely too charming to be so fucking annoying. Iker smiles in spite of himself and he gasps when he sees the cathedral, the one he'd seen pictures of and he nearly comes to a screeching stop right there. He jumps when a horn is blown at him and he steps on the gas, spying a miraculously empty parking space along the side of Decatur and he wheels into it, his truck giving a big, final sigh of relief when he kills the engine. He opens his glove compartment and pulls out the wad of cash from David and his own pocket knife, shoving both down deep into his pockets before he climbs out of the car, his eyes up on that big church in the dying midday sun and he can't help but feel like Sergio must be happy here, he must feel kindred to this place because the air smells of him, positively reeks of him. A swift wind from the Mississippi to his right picks up, dragging his hair all around and the salt from that ancient river is Sergio, the sharp thick smell of chicory and the sweetness of beignets is Sergio, the spices from the French Market are Sergio, the birdsong and the lazy beauty of that peculiar accent is Sergio. His feet are pulling him on his way, they're taking him further down Decatur and past Jackson Square and toward the sleepier streets of the Quarter, the quiet ones with heavy shadows from trees and the greenery overflowing from each and every balcony. He's enchanted, bewitched and hungry suddenly to walk every foot of this city or at least this neighborhood, to know every stone and twisted root broken through concrete but only with Sergio. Only always with Sergio.

He turns onto Ursuline because that's it, that's the name of the street (though Gabriela had said it the old way, had said _Rue des Ursulines_ with a wicked French Creole lick that had given him goosebumps) and he's practically running now, the paper in his hand a blur without his glasses and he squints desperately for a street number, for a crossing street, for anything. He lifts his head to try and look into windows, to see past bright, gauzy curtains and the consuming hanging gardens, the ivy and jasmine and gardenia and banana plants and roses and wisteria and he realizes that's what he's breathing, it's flowers, it's hundreds of different flowers caught between timeworn buildings on these tiny streets and then he's gasping, he's running like he's being chased because of a flash of color he sees on a balcony no more than two hundred feet away, he sees the particular, faded grey of his own hoodie amongst the greens and reds and pinks and whites of flowers, he sees a familiar fall of brown hair more beautiful than any and every other color in this city, he sees a bare foot hanging out between the wrought-iron railing of a balcony and he knows, he knows like he knows his mother's laugh, his brother's run and David's hands and Sergio's soul, he knows that's him up there, his one in a million, his Sergio. Right there.

"Sergio!" His voice echoes off the brick and iron and stone and flowers and he sounds so young in his own ears, he sounds so desperate and alone down here on this empty street, the sounds of the Quarter nearby but not bothering them, not here, not now. He doesn't realize that he's tearing into his palms, that he's pinching and pinching himself, that he's practically shaking as he stands helpless for what is probably only ten seconds but for what feels like purgatory, an absolute eternity. And what he doesn't know is that Sergio has been dreaming of him, has been dreaming of his journey, has connected to his heart and his bones and his feet, that he's felt the 701.7 miles it has taken Iker to get here, the 7,920 steps he has taken from the riverfront to right here under the balcony he's asleep on, that he had opened his eyes a literal second before Iker had opened his mouth to call his name because he had felt him, he had felt his eyes like search beams, had felt his absolute desperation like it's his own and god, there's his voice and it feels like centuries, it feels like his bones are dust and his heart is worm food and like he's one million years old, that it's been an unrecordable amount of time since he last heard Iker when in fact it had only been less than two days. Two days. And how is it even possible?

He sits up and they both stop, they simply stop. Iker, helpless and earthbound beneath Sergio who is hovering just above him like an impossibility, like everything he is, like the winged, beautiful creature he is.

"Sergio." It's a plea now and he knows it, he knows it and Sergio knows it and he's running back into the house like he's been shot from a rifle, he's ripping at the door and flying down the stairs and bursting onto the street before Iker's knees hit the ground, before he can fall apart with no one to catch him. Sergio cups his cheeks as Iker lets out a loud, painful sob that tears at his chest and he wants to say so much, he wants to give Sergio the speech he'd practiced, he wants to recite the poems he'd written in his mind, on the backs of receipts for gasoline and coffee and he wants to give him his arguments, his lists, his point-by-point rationalizations of why Sergio needs to come back with him, why he needs to be with him and love him but he doesn't have another word in his mouth, not another one in the whole long line of his body and all he can do is lean against Sergio when that boy pulls him into his arms. He clutches at his thin shirt, at his hair and at his skin where he leaves bruises but Sergio craves them, he craves them like he does this boy's scent and he's dragging them away from the street, he's pulling them both onto the sidewalk and against the side of the building and they wrap around each other like they're going to be ripped apart by the gods or by nature or each other. Sergio burns kisses all across Iker's face, his wet cheeks and his gasping mouth and he can't move, he honestly can't move, every single ounce of energy spent from him the second he'd seen him again. They stay just like that for a long time, for what very well could have been an hour or maybe two, long enough for the air to become kinder, the breeze to find them from the river, the sun to nestle down against the trees. Sergio holds him and doesn't say a word because words aren't enough sometimes. Words aren't nearly enough.

Iker calms when shadows start to bleed into each other and the sky turns violet, turns honest to god violet (god this city) and Sergio's fingers haven't stopped for a single second, his hands haven't stopped in their beautiful comfort. Iker finally, having soaked up enough strength from Sergio, enough life, lifts his head and kisses the point of Sergio's chin, kisses down to his neck where he hides his face again. Sergio tugs at the growing hair in front of Iker's ears, wrapping it gently around his fingers and then tucking it behind his flushed ears. "How did you find me," he murmurs, dipping his head to leave a single kiss to his exposed temple.

"I don't know. God, I don't know anything before you. Before right now. I don't remember this morning or last week or when I was young. I don't know anything but you."

Sergio absorbs those words into the very marrow of his bones, he draws them in deep and he feels stronger for them, fortified. He ignores the people walking past, the ones who stop and look at them and the ones who stare as they hurry past, he doesn't even see their faces because Iker is right. No one else matters. Not a single soul.

"You can't stay gone, beautiful. You just can't. I don't want to trap you and I don't want to... to keep you from doing what you want, from seein' this world but... but I need you to come home to me. I'll help you see all the world you want, I'll do whatever I can to help you, but I need you to come home to me in between. I need you in my bed, in my kitchen, in my arms. I need this mouth and these eyes and these hands of yours." He nuzzles down into those very hands, the ones that are cupping his cheeks and he kisses at Sergio's mouth, feverish for him. "I need it to be _our_ home. Ours."

"Iker..."

"Wait. Here. Here, darlin'." He digs at the scruff of his own neck, at his collar and beneath it before he finds the worn strip of leather he'd tied around his neck and he unearths it from his shirt and shows Sergio the key attached, his own worn, beat-up key to his dead daddy's house, what is now his momma's house dangling from the leather. He shows it to Sergio, presents it to him, the key to his kingdom, his only offering in the world. Sergio's eyes flicker from the key to Iker's eyes and back again a few times, not blinking through the tears that are welling and overflowing down his cheeks. Iker takes the key off and he holds it out for Sergio to take, doesn't want to put it on him, doesn't want to force anything on him anymore. "It's not ideal, I know. But just for right now. Until we can build our own place, me an' you an' David'n' Nando. David's got the land and the money saved up and me and him's gonna build it, we're gonna start as soon as we get home. You can have your own space, you can do whatever you want with it. You can decorate the whole place however you want. Make it yours. All of it. Make it ours."

Sergio stares at the key, every single thing he's been feeling since he left Iker's house just before dawn hitting him like stones and he's nodding as his own face crumples, his chin trembling and he's nodding and nodding and he's dizzy but he grabs hold of the key, of the bit of leather and he pulls it around his own neck and they shift together, mouths connecting wetly, shaking and with soft whispers between them but they connect. Iker runs his hand up Sergio's chest, heavy and hungry and he presses that key against his thin chest, into his skin and his sternum and it's hard enough for the key to bruise him but that's what he wants, that's what they both want, they want this moment to be a tattoo, they want it to be forever and imprinted on them, a physical reminder of how it's changed them forever.

The moon is out and pale by the time they rouse themselves, by the time they stand on their own two feet (clutching, always and forever connected and clutching) and they start off down the street without another word, in the opposite direction from which Iker had come and they round the corner onto Chartres, both of them in nothing but thin cotton but the air is simultaneously thick and cool. Iker runs his fingertips along the side of each building, along the wooden posts that hold up some of the balconies, along the mortar between the brick and they find themselves at the back of the cathedral, Sergio leading them down one of the side alleys on one side of it, one that is full of shadow except for the golden, isolated glows of street lanterns, the entire place shrouded in quiet and dark, the normally bright colors of the pressed buildings muted in the moonlight, the entire place seeming haunted. Sergio is standing so still next to him, gazing down the alley and Iker watches him, watches him instead of this beautiful place because nothing could be improved if you're looking at Sergio.

"This is Pirate Alley. I've wanted to see this place since I was ten years old."

Iker can't speak for a long moment, his words once again gone and he's left with just Sergio's staggering beauty, the magnitude of his soul and his own vast love for him. He strokes his dreads one at a time, long fingers easing the muscles of Sergio's long, graceful neck.

"Why this place?"

"It's... it's like a whole world by itself. So many stories right here, so many stolen moments, so many secrets and lost memories. Right here. Between a church and a dungeon. So many spirits here. It's thick with them. Do you feel them?" He turns those eyes onto Iker and Iker feels caught, he feels silly and old and in love.

"I... I wish I did. I wish I could feel 'em, beautiful." He's quiet, trying to feel whatever it is Sergio is talking about but all he feels is what he can see, a body made of honey and bones and tight, burning warmth, eyes that reveal a soul not of this world, the rainbow of the buildings behind him on one side and the foreboding white washed brick of the cathedral on the other.

"I can. I can see them." He says it so quietly that Iker doesn't feel right responding, he says it as a thought and a secret and he keeps it that way, he keeps Sergio's secret here between them, with the other millions caught in this alley. He reaches down for Sergio's hand and he pulls him gently into the alley proper, feeling Sergio's heartbeat pulsing in his palm. They pause so he can absorb it, so he can lay his fingers on the buildings, so he can touch the doorknobs and look up and around and Iker is driven wild by him, by the fluidity of his movements and the mystery of his silence and it all comes together in the way he catches Sergio's mouth, the way he pushes his hands down his body and grips his ass firmly, spreading his cheeks apart to hold him tightly against himself so he can grind between his legs. Sergio's legs move apart as best as he can while he's standing and he leans back against one of the columns of the church, one that juts out at an angle down into the cobblestone and he leans against it, straddling the column while Iker works at his pants, while he tugs and rips at them desperately and Sergio has his hands on Iker's doing the same thing. The second he can Iker is shoving Sergio back against the church and he's edging against him, his thick cock leaking and practically pulsing in his fist as he forces his way in, knowing it's dry and painful and cruel and Sergio bites down on a cry that still manages to echo off the buildings, to trap their own stolen moment here against this mythical church. Iker clutches at Sergio, holding him up in his arms and he's battering him into the brick, he's pounding into that body with all the hunger he's kept in store for these forever days, for so many miles. Sergio sobs into Iker's shoulder, into his neck and he kisses at his skin, kisses his thanks and his amazement at being loved this thoroughly, this overwhelmingly. He will never be able to explain to Iker what it feels like to have souls all around him, thick and untouchable as the air but just as real, just as close. He closes his eyes as Iker's cock burns in and out of him and the key is burning like it's just been forged between their chests, branding them. Honeysuckle and jasmine drift down from the balconies and into Sergio's nose and life feels so perfect, so desperately perfect right at this second that he feels like he's going to faint.

"You know what I realized on the way here? All those miles between home and you, listening to every fucking love song ever written, you know what I realized? I don't understand a goddamn one of them. I don't understand any love song anybody's ever wrote, no poem or sonnet or love story. All those books with thousands and millions of words. None of them make sense to me. You know why? You know why, my beautiful boy? Because none of them are about you. None of them were written about you, for you. None of them are true. Because it's only love when it's with you. You're the only thing ever made for love, in the history of this whole world. All of those guys, every one of them is a fuckin' fool. They just thought they were in love. But none of them have seen you. None of them have felt this." He digs Sergio fully back into the wall of the church and he pushes his cock deeper, deeper god somehow deeper and Sergio tips his head back and cries out, tears tumbling helplessly down his cheeks and he trembles for Iker's mouth, for the rhythm of his hips and for his panted, beautiful words carving themselves into him. "None of them have never loved you. They don't know what love really is."

Sergio opens his mouth against Iker's to catch the sound he makes when he comes between them, to bring it into his mouth so his own sounds will be brave enough to hit this damp air, to immortalize Sergio in his alley. Sergio comes a few seconds later with Iker overflowing out of him, with his fingers wrapped around his trapped cock and with their hearts hammering at each other, slamming on either side of that key to get to each other. They rock against each other, grinding it out, prolonging this beautiful wave they're riding as long as they can until Iker realizes people are passing very close by, that they were most certainly heard and maybe watched and it makes him push in closer to hide Sergio while he puts his clothes back on. He helps him down from the pillar and he holds him up while Sergio walks on shaky legs around to the front of the cathedral.

They go inside and light a candle together, their own little ceremony unknown to the rest of the world though Iker has no idea how because they're both glowing with it, brighter than even the moon.


	28. Chapter 28

New Orleans had been theirs for two days. Two days is not a lot of time, factually speaking, but to them, it had been a beautiful eternity. It had been a true break from living. They had rented a room in an old Spanish style home turned hotel, one with the balcony that Sergio loves and a courtyard that brought the smell of flowers with every thick, rare breeze. They'd found the Garden District together, had ridden in a cable car, had eaten po' boys at Johnny's, had explored the cemeteries for hours, visits that had left Sergio silent and contemplative and unable to leave his own head until the following morning. They'd climbed into Iker's truck just as the sun was setting, that violet that Iker is so in love with breaking across the sky and they had ambled out of the city, the taste of chicory still on their tongues, powdered sugar on the very tip of Sergio's nose from his final beignet but Iker hasn't told him about it yet. He wants to kiss it off later for dessert.

The sky has fallen dark by the time they get out of New Orleans completely, out onto a mostly abandoned highway and Sergio takes off his seatbelt and laces one of his hands with Iker's, nestling his cheek in against his shoulder and his eyes fall closed, trusting Iker and his strong arms, his sure hand on the wheel and his eyes focused but soft on the road, his man that he trusts without hesitation. The radio is playing softly, Iker's old rock'n'roll, a band on right now that Iker calls Blind Faith and that sounds to Sergio like an old soul singing, a sweet, thoughtful guitar that eases the last bit of tension from his chest.

"You think you'd ever want to live there?" Iker's voice is quiet, almost as quiet as the song, nearly a whisper over the wind from the rolled-down windows, the night drifting in warm over their skin, cooling the heat still radiating off of them from being in southern Louisiana in the dog days of summer. Sergio doesn't open his eyes but he shifts a little, rubbing his slightly sunburnt cheek against Iker's shoulder, enjoying the scratch of his worn cotton shirt.

"In New Orleans?" He contemplates this lazily, trying to imagine it the second he says those words, living in an ancient shotgun house in the Irish Channel or a tiny apartment like Thierry's with the fan always on in the window, exploring the city every day and hiding away in the cathedral when he wants to be alone in his mind. He smiles a little, squeezing Iker's hand. "No. I don't think so. I think I might like it even more than New York, but it doesn't seem right. At least not just yet."

Iker is relieved to hear that and his shoulders relax a little when he exhales. He glances in his rearview mirror and then back out at the road, making sure there is nothing around them so he can lean over and kiss Sergio's temple. "Oh? Why's that?"

He's so quiet that Iker thinks he must have fallen asleep but his voice finds the darkness a few seconds later. "After being at your house, on your farm, I just... I keep finding myself thinking about it. Just different things."

"Like what?" Iker's eyes are a million miles away now, a seemingly permanent smile ghosting his mouth as he brings Sergio's hand tangled with his own to his lips, kissing each knuckle before he lets them return to Sergio's thigh.

"About Amos. Taking naps with him in the field. About when I rode him out into the property with no saddle and he was so gentle with me, so slow, like he wanted to enjoy it, too. About watching you play baseball with Ronnie, the way you walk when you're playing. You've got this little strut you do and you hold your shoulders back really far and you've got this grin like you've got the whole world figured out. And then I see you pitch." His body heats up as he blushes and thank god his eyes are closed because then he can't see the way Iker is grinning like an idiot, maybe a little cocky over that description.

"Yeah? I'm pretty good for an old man, aren't I?"

"You're amazing. You should have kept playing."

Iker shakes his head, dismissing that almost immediately but his soft smile doesn't leave, isn't replaced by regret or sadness. "Nah. There was too much else for me to do around the house, too much homework. Besides, Ronnie is better'n I ever was. If I hadn't've spent all that time with him practicing, he might not be as good as he is. And he could go on to really do somethin', you know? That's priceless."

Sergio's eyes finally slide open and he looks over at Iker, studying him in gentle wonder before he kisses his cheek once and then half a dozen more times and he settles back in again, snuggled up against him. "You are the best person I know."

He would normally be denying that in a second from anyone else, but those words from Sergio are sacred and he just accepts them humbly, dumbly, even, not knowing where to start thanking him for them. He swallows past the knot in his throat and takes a deep breath, reveling in the release he feels when he lets it out. "Tell me more about home."

 

 

\--

 

 

"Davey?"

David's eyes flutter open before falling immediately closed again and he shifts with a groan, every muscle in his body protesting being awake as he tightens his arms around Fernando, hands stroking down low across his back before sliding back up. He gives a grunt before burying his face into Fernando's neck, leaving two wet kisses there before sighing. "Yeh, baby?"

"I need to tell you something."

He realizes then that Fernando is dressed. He certainly wasn't dressed when they had finally fallen asleep sometime before dawn. He sounds awake and focused and strange. David's eyes open one more time and this time, he's awake.

"What is it, Pea?" He pulls back a little and wipes the sleep from his eyes and god this boy. No better sight in the world than Nando curled up in his arms with the morning pouring into the room. He wants to dig his hips forward and claim his mouth until they are both sated again and can fall back asleep but the look in Fernando's eyes make him sit up, push his hair back from his eyes and pay attention.

Fernando sits up with him, folding up his fawn legs until he's contained in a neat package and he takes a deep breath, trying to sit up straight but his shoulders still curve in the slightest bit. David's heart aches. His baby.

"I'm going to turn myself in."

David just stares at him dumbly, none of those words coming together to form a coherent sentence to him, not even upon the fourth mental replay. He glances at the clock for help but it just tells him that it's 10:43 in the morning. The window is open the slightest bit, the curtains lifting pleasantly in the breeze. Somewhere in the house there's a television on playing The Flintstones. Barney Rubble is arguing with Fred Flintstone about a golf membership. Fernando used to love The Flintstones. Fruity Pebbles was his favorite cereal. David makes a mental note to buy some at the store today. He finally blinks at Fernando.

"What?"

"I'm going to turn myself in," Fernando says again patiently, making sure to annunciate each word though his soft mountain accent is laced through them. "To the police."

The breeze dies and the room feels scorchingly hot suddenly. The front door slams, the screen door smacking back hard on its springs. Iker's mother yelling something about running and slamming doors and all those other things mothers say to children. David's own mother never yelled, not even in a motherly way. He gives a breath of laughter but he can't even manage a hint of a smile. He throws the covers off and climbs up sweaty and naked from the bed, his cock hanging long and heavy as he walks to the bathroom. "No, you're not."

Fernando follows him, calm and unperturbed. He sits on the edge of the bathtub while David takes his morning piss, taking the moment to admire his body, to adore the thatch of hair under his arms and that run up his thighs and surround his cock, his farmer's tan and he is so fucking beautiful, all lean muscle and not an ounce of fat. He's the kind of man that inspired people to dream up the idea of gods. He's going to miss his hands and everything running up from them that make up his brother. "I am, Davey. I am. I've been thinkin' about this for awhile now."

David shakes his dick dry and pads over to the mirror, his panic increasing but his ability to maintain denial is overpowering it courageously. He squishes the last of his toothpaste out onto his toothbrush and runs it under cold water before he brushes his teeth hard. Toothpaste and Fruity Pebbles. He needs to write these things down. Fernando just watches him, that same maddening calm about him, like he's got it all figured out, like he knows more than David does which is probably true, probably always has been and it's fucking infuriating. How are you supposed to protect someone who is one step ahead of you? He rinses his mouth and tosses his toothbrush in the cup beside Fernando's. Nando's toothbrush is almost brand new, doesn't even have any dried toothpaste spots on it. He still has clothes in Iker's van that need to be washed and folded. There are still places on his body that David hasn't kissed. He's sure of it.

"Why? Why the hell would you do that? Nobody needs to know nothin'. It ain't nobody's goddamn business. Nobody cared when Dad was beating the shit out of us and locking you in the closet for days at a time. Why the fuck does anybody gotta get involved now? Nobody cares that that sonofabitch is gone. I sure as hell don't." He practically storms out of the bathroom and Fernando follows him, walking slowly behind him as David makes a mess of looking for underwear, clothes getting thrown all over the room and Fernando is getting increasingly anxious.

"It don't matter. They're lookin' for me, Davey. They have been since I left. I don't know why. I don't know what they want from me. I know they think I burned that place down. They think I gotta history or somethin'. You remember that field out next to the water tower? Off beside Dewey Pickens' place? When I almost burned the whole damn thing up?"

"Yeah, but that was just because you fell asleep holding a cigarette! You just got probation, chickpea! That don't mean nothin'!" David is past panicked now but he's dressed somehow, in his uniform of a wifebeater and tightly fitting jeans and he digs his dirty socks out of his boots and pulls them on. "And besides, _I_ was the one who burned our house down! It was _me._ If anyone needs to go down to the police station, it's _me_."

"Davey, _no._ " Fernando is on his feet in a flash, his hands out to rest on David's biceps, squeezing them as he steps in as close as he can, tears standing in his dark eyes. "You were an adult. You're an _adult_. You'll go to _jail._ I can't get in that much trouble. A year in juvie, tops. That ain't nothin'."

"Nando!" He fights against his grip and grabs hold of Fernando in the same place Fernando had been holding onto him, practically lifting him up, bruising his arms with strong hands. His eyes are hot with tears, his chin trembling. This can't be happening. He has to still be dreaming, having another one of his hundreds of nightmares about his sweet boy. He can't ever seem to protect him. He never seems to be strong enough. "A year isn't nothing! Going to juvenile isn't nothing! Why the fuck would you want to do something like this!?"

"Because I'm tired of it, Davey!" Fernando's sob breaks through the room and it shakes David back into the present, makes reality sink in, thick and horrific. "I'm tired of hidin'. I'm tired of runnin'. I'm tired of bein' afraid all the time. Of waking up and listening for the sound of footsteps. I'm tired of letting this eat me up inside, of letting Daddy keep hurting me. I can't do it anymore. It's killing me, Davey. It's killing me inside and I can't live like this no more. I'm so sorry Davey but I just can't." He dissolves right in front of David, sinks down onto the bed and curls down over himself and David is right behind him, arms around him and they rock slowly, David's mouth tendering along the top of Fernando's spine. "I just can't," he says again, his voice barely there, thin and exhausted.

"You really want to do this?" He brushes Fernando's hair back, petting at the short sides, the shaved hair that has grown soft, nearly curls. He brushes tears away and wipes them on his own pants. He cannot fathom the cruelty of this moment, of this situation. He curses God with each breath he draws.

"I just want a normal life, Davey. Not... not normal like everybody else, but normal like I can be. I wanna do somethin', I wanna not hide from everybody. I wanna be somethin' someday. I want to be with you and I want to be somethin'. And I can't do that until I fix all my wrongs. I gotta wipe the slate clean. Can't let this control me anymore."

"My brave boy," David whispers, cupping Fernando's face with his large hands and he tips it up so he can see him, really see him, cherish him, meet those eyes with his own. He kisses him invasive, greedy, trying to drink him all up through his generous mouth and his sweet tongue. "Let me make some phone calls, baby. Let me see what we can do, who we can talk to. Let me try to protect you as much as I can."

"You always do," Fernando murmurs back, lifting up to settle into Davey's lap, long legs wrapping around him and he kisses him back slowly, trying to calm the fear that is dancing over David's skin like heat from the sun. "You always have."


	29. Chapter 29

They see the last of Atlanta before dawn, when all the world is quiet and Sergio is on his own side of the truck, fresh from sleep and a dream that will not leave him. Iker wants coffee and a hot shower and a good, hard fuck with Sergio and a double cheeseburger and then maybe a nap. He looks over at Sergio to say just this but the look on Sergio's face stops him. He reaches over and rests his hand on top of his, his fingers spread against Sergio's knuckles and he waits a few beats before he speaks.

"Talk to me?"

Sergio doesn't react at all, doesn't even seem like he's felt or heard Iker but Iker knows better, he knows and so he waits. They're nearly in Roswell before Sergio finally looks away from the window, his hand turning over to lace with Iker's, clasping and holding. He stares down at their hands, his mouth drawn in a long, deep frown. Iker's chest tightens. But he waits.

"I had a dream just now."

Iker waits some more, a hundred obvious questions tripping over themselves on his tongue but he holds them in. The sunrise is stunning, Bright bursts of blinding gold and the palest of pinks and oranges and Sergio looks like he's being made to deliver someone a sentence.

"We need to get home, Iker."

Iker looks back at him then, his hand gripping the steering wheel tight, knuckles white and shaking faintly. He grits his teeth, jaw clenching and he looks straight back ahead to the road with a renewed purpose. He pushes David's truck to new speeds, knowing much better than to question Sergio when he's like this.

\--

Fernando has charged himself with the task of brushing Amos's mane, a seemingly simple job that is hard as hell on his hands and not nearly as much fun for either of them as it had sounded initially in his head. David is out fixing part of a fence that had gotten knocked loose in last night's thunderstorm and the clouds haven't nearly cleared yet. They're both quiet this morning, pensive and lost in their own minds. He squints over across the field and sees his brother over there, the muscles in his arms tensed and glistening with sweat while he hammers another nail into the old wood post. He turns back to Amos, his shoulders drawn in as he continues to half-heartedly brush him.

Tomorrow morning. He's decided to do it then. Nothing David has said has even remotely swayed him, not one touch or kiss or delicious press of rock hard body. He hasn't eaten a bite in nearly two days because he knows he'll just throw it up again. He doesn't know what's going to happen, doesn't know really what to expect after he walks into the police station, but he knows it needs to be done. There's nothing for it.

"Hey, chickpea. Let's go in and have some tea, okay? Startin' to get hot out." David is walking up in that long, cowboy way of his and Fernando feels a deep stir of lust gnawing at his empty stomach. He wants to drink every drop of sweat from David's body and lick out his armpits and hump against his strong thigh until he passes out. And any residual guilt he had been feeling over these base desires for his brother are utterly gone. The entire rest of the world can go collectively fuck itself.

Fernando grins up at David as he walks over, fitting himself in under David's arm where he belongs. He accepts the warm kiss to his lips, trying to calm any anxiety David is feeling by being extra chipper himself. "You missed me these last twenty minutes, didn't you? That's all it is. Just admit it."

David snorts and tosses him a wry smile, pulling Fernando in closer, the sweat-damp pit under his arm warm against Fernando's neck.

"You betcher ass, baby boy. No shame admittin' that."

Fernando smiles contentedly, resting his cheek in the crook of David's neck as they laze toward the house. David had talked Miss Judy into taking the kids to Atlanta for a couple of days to go to Six Flags. He'd even sprung for a room for them at the Holiday Inn downtown. And while he just wants them to have a break and a little vacation, the real reason he wants them gone is he doesn't want anyone to see the fallout of his baby brother turning himself in and the jagged pieces he and Iker and Sergio are going to break into as a result.

His mouth falls into a pained frown when they stomp up the steps onto the side patio. It feels like the last days before someone dies. David knows for a fact. It feels just like that.

\--

David had made them bologna and ketchup sandwiches on white bread for old time's sake and Fernando, in a fit of aching nostalgia, had eaten half of his. He sips at his can of Sprite, staring at the calendar that Iker's momma keeps on the wall, his eyes far-off and tired. David lets him look, lets him have the time he needs to process this even while it breaks his heart. He reaches across the table and grabs Fernando's hand from where it's lifted to his mouth, his teeth digging in and ripping at what's left of his nails. David licks at the spit-slick nail bed of his ring finger, sucking on the raw skin to ease the sting and he kisses Fernando's palm, meeting his eyes with a small smile. Whatever he was going to say leaves him the second they hear the all-too-familiar rumble of David's truck coming up the long gravel driveway.

Iker's back.

Fernando pulls his hand away and jumps up from the table, looking for all the world like a cat who's just seen a squirrel through the window and he takes off like a shot from the house, the knockoff Doc Martens on his feet clattering down the old boards of the porch and David can hear him clear as a bell, his voice sweet and happy and beautiful. And how. How is he going to live without it for even a second, now that he knows what it's like to have Fernando utterly? How is he going to survive this.

"Magic! Magic!"

He's around to Sergio's side of the truck and he's ripping the door open and he just launches himself inside with no hesitation, landing fully on top of Sergio and he just starts kissing, doesn't care that he's kissing seatbelt and then cotton shirt and then collarbone and up to his jaw and his mouth mouth mouth and he clutches at Sergio's face, his fingers blindly finding the white fabric braided up in a lock of hair that Sergio had taken from Fernando the day he'd left, just days ago now but god, it seems like years. So much has changed that it seems like a lifetime ago. Sergio gives a soft laugh, his hands up to rest on Fernando's arms and then his shoulders to try and tame him, to calm him a little and he returns the kiss once it finds his mouth, he slows it and eases it and Fernando relaxes against him, becomes a bit more emotional about it and he lets out a tiny, tiny whimper.

"Don't you ever do that again. Not ever, ever again. You hear me, Sergio Ramos?"

Sergio holds onto Fernando's face to press their foreheads together, sharing breath and a quiet that just seems to settle around them, preserving this moment just for them.

"I promise, Nando. I promise."

\--

Iker had barely gotten his shoes off before he collapsed down into his bed, tired arms wrapping around his familiar pillow. He woke up to a late afternoon hotter than the hinges of hell, his entire body covered in sweat. He stumbles into the shower and sets it to lukewarm and dozes under it for a few minutes, letting the coolness slowly wake him and ease his body temperature down and he steps out feeling a bit more human. He walks downstairs to see David and Nando on the couch, watching an old rerun of The Andy Griffith Show, tangled up around each other irretrievably, Fernando's mouth licking out kisses along David's neck, slow and sweet and savoring. Iker's eyebrows shoot up and he turns to look into the kitchen where he smells tomato sauce and garlic and bread and oh. Food.

The sight of Sergio standing at the stove in his kitchen, stirring sauce in a big pot, the long impossibility of his hair pulled up in a wide, black band. Iker sidles up behind him, making sure to angle his hips so his cock rests firm against Sergio's ass while he wraps his arms around him, the kisses he trails up along Sergio's neck an exact replica of the ones that Fernando is giving David.

"You makin' me dinner, beautiful?"

He can feel the heat on Sergio's skin as he blushes but he keeps stirring, slow and serene and like this was what he did--they did--every day of their lives.

"It's just spaghetti. There wasn't too much to pick from. We probably need to get a few groceries tomorrow. David said your mom and brother and sister are down in Atlanta for a few days."

"Mm." Iker falls quiet as he muses over this, his lips stilled over Sergio's skin, hands spread and rubbing slowly over Sergio's tummy under his shirt. "He say why?"

"Not really." There's an oddness to Sergio's tone, words held back and Iker feels his stomach drop a little. He tightens his arms around him, holding on for dear life just for right now. Just for this lovely, warm evening. "Hey, Iker?"

Iker stirs from his thoughts, his fingers dipping below the waist of Sergio's jeans just a little as he presses a kiss to the point of his jaw. "Yeah, doll?"

"Can you stir this for me? I. I think I might need to shower. Too hot over this stove." He turns in Iker's arms but won't quite meet his gaze, won't hold it for longer than a second. Iker feels cold suddenly, all the good and warmth he'd been feeling over the last couple of days a ghost, a faint memory.

"Sure. Go. Go ahead. I'll finish up." He watches Sergio walk away, watches him almost reach the door before he finds his voice again. "Hey, Sese?"

Sergio looks back at him, his expression dark, troubled, dreading. Iker's heart thuds in his chest. "Yeah?"

"What were you dreamin' about this morning? In the truck?"

Sergio looks away, his hand gripping the back of the chair in front of him hard.

"Stir the bottom good, okay? So it doesn't burn."

With that he's gone, past David and Fernando curled up on the couch and silent up the stairs to the dark second floor. Iker turns numbly back to the spaghetti sauce, feeling decidedly not hungry now.

\--

Sergio stares at his reflection in the mirror in the bathroom. He looks haggard, thin, a wraith. His dream comes back to him then unbidden, like they always are, rushes of images and emotions and words and undeniable certainties. He rushes over to the toilet just in time to lean over it and gag, throwing up whatever is left in his stomach from their breakfast at Cracker Barrel.

It won't leave him alone: David holding onto Fernando outside of the police station, the two of them clutching in that old truck outside, David pushing kisses into Fernando's skin, pleading with him with everything in him to please not do this, please, there has to be another way. Panic, fear, despair, desperation. Unfathomable love. And Fernando crying just as hard, clinging just as tight. The same emotions coursing through him. I have to, I have to do this or I. Please, Davey. Just please let me go. A struggle and more kisses, arms wrapped around a small, still tenderly young body and then Fernando is gone, out of the truck and up to the police station, one last look over his shoulder at his brother before he disappears inside.

Sergio comes back to himself and he's still standing in front of the mirror only now he's shaking. Nando. Nando is leaving. Nando is letting himself be punished for his father's sins, for all those things that are not his fault, have never been his fault. Nando needs redemption, needs a second chance.

Sergio feels reckless and his hands are trembling. He doesn't know where the scissors come from but he's eerily calm as he pulls his hair down from its thick ponytail, letting it tumble long over his shoulders and down his back.

He's been growing it out for a long time, since before he left home. Back then, it was just long, long in pretty waves of all the colors of tree bark, long and conditioned and brushed and his mother's fingers slipped between the strands effortlessly as they'd lie in the grass in the backyard, singing old flamenco songs passed down to them, Spanish and caló weaving together with their soft harmonies. He will probably never see his mother again. And her hands will never know this hair he has now.

He brings the scissors to his head, nearly to the scalp and he cuts the first dreadlock off and drops it in the sink, his eyes trained on his work, calm and efficient. He cuts more and more off, paying attention to the fabric twined with each, remembering the stories that went along with them, the people he always tries to keep with him, sand through his fingers. Fabric from one of his mother's old scarves, gone. From the shirts of old lovers, men with strong hands and beautiful words and burning mouths, gone. Small pieces of seaglass found on the beach, gone. Coins from Spain, pesetas, gone. Bells, the tiny sweet tinkle of sound always in his ear, gone. He cuts and cuts, the sink filling with thick locks and thin ones, some just simple braids, most of them gorgeous nests of time and memory. All of his vanity, gone. The last to go is the one from Fernando, the newest one, the bright white fabric from his sleep shirt that day. Fernando who he has had visions of, dreams of, who carries more pain and is more haunted than anyone should ever be in all the days of a long life. Nando, his sweet Nando. Who will never be the same after tonight. After tomorrow. Gone.

He finds a pair of clippers in the cabinet under the sink, takes the guard off of it and calmly takes it to his head, smoothing out the whorls from where hair has been cut unevenly and taking out the last stray bits of hair until there's nothing left but the dark shadow of hair waiting to grow in. He runs his hands over it and continues staring at himself, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

It's not fair. Fernando is going to be punished tomorrow and it's just not fucking fair.

He gathers all the hair from the sink, cradles the locks in his arms like a doll and he grabs the lighter from Iker's dresser. He makes his way down the stairs like he's in a dream, in a trance, gliding right past Davey and Nando again and he hears the cry of alarm from Iker in the kitchen but he heads outside into the beginning of the evening, the sun setting in dreamy swirls of impossible color and he hears three sets of feet following him. He kneels down not far from the truck where a small firepit has already been and he drops the hair there, flicking the lighter over all of it until it catches fire, a horrible smell arising from it with smoke. He closes his eyes, deaf to the sounds of Iker's frantic, worried voice, Fernando's gasps and David's attempts at calming them both.

He closes his eyes and he pictures the four of them, making this work. He pictures a place that's just theirs, a home of their choice and creation. He pictures four rooms but a main room with the very biggest bed so they can share, if they want to. Share each other, if they want to. He pictures Fernando back with them, back and safe and healthy and happy. He focuses in on that, his mouth moving with his prayers, focuses on that boy, on the road he's about to travel down and he prays for him. Please keep him safe, he asks the setting sun, the rising moon, the awakening stars, any god that will have him and heed him. Please. Please keep him safe.

 

\--

"But why? I don't understand, Nando. Please. There has to be another way. There--"

"There ain't, Iker. There just. Look." The exasperation is clear in his voice. "Trust me, I've thought about this a lot. For a long time. Please. This is my decision. I need to do this."

Sergio comes to just in time to hear this. He opens his eyes and sees Iker pacing the floor and Fernando sitting forward on the edge of the coffee table. He can smell the spaghetti in the kitchen, the bread from the oven, all of it untouched. He focuses on where David's hand has slipped under the back of Fernando's shirt, rubbing at the lowest part of his spine in comfort, in support. Sergio says nothing, just closes his eyes again and reaches up to touch his bald head.

Iker turns to David then, a frown fixed on his face. "Why haven't you tried to stop him? How can you let him do this? How can you let him take the fall for this when you were the one--"

Fernando is up so fast that Iker jumps, leans back away from him. Fernando stretches to his full height so he can stare straight into Iker's eyes. "Don't you say another word to him. If he goes to jail, he's gone. For years. I'm a kid. I'll go to juvie for a year, tops. You're insane if you don't understand why I'm doin' this. Why I can't let him do this. You're out of your fucking mind if you don't get it, Iker."

"C'mere, chickpea. Calm down, okay?" David's voice is soft, soothing and he pulls Fernando close to him again, his hands petting him, eyes down. Truth is, he's ashamed. He's ashamed that Fernando is going to do this, is going to take the blame for him. He hates himself for it. He will never, ever forgive himself. But they've talked about this for hours, debated and cried and went around and around with it and Fernando will not back down. Refuses even a thought about David going instead of him.

"So what's your plan, Nando? I mean. What are you going to say to them? What." Iker sits down finally, next to Sergio, looking young and lost. Sergio sits up then, pressing right up against Iker's side, his arm going around him. He still hasn't said a word since he came back into himself, he has no idea how this all came up. How Nando broke the news to Iker. Iker glances down at Sergio and gives him a half-hearted smile, tipping his head down to press a kiss to the newly exposed skin on top of his head.

"I'm gonna go in and say. A-and say that I burned that house down. And. And that my daddy tried to kill me and. And I had to defend myself. That I just panicked and ran. Which. I mean. Most all that is true. I just. There's no use me and Davey both gettin' in trouble. 'Sides, that was our house. Nobody else's business if it got burned down." Fernando looks sure of himself, sounds rational and practiced because it's what he's been saying to himself over and over for days.

"I'm pretty sure the police don't agree with you there. Do you have a lawyer? Nando, you need a lawyer. You--"

"Davey's got me one! A friend from school. She's going to meet me down there. She's going to go in with me. Help me. I already talked to her yesterday. Claire Riggins. Said she'd help for free, after I told her what happened. She said it's gonna be okay."

"What time are you going?"

They all three turn to look at Sergio who hasn't spoken for what feels like hours, his voice raw, hoarse.

"Nine," Fernando says softly, sounding scared for the first time. "Nine o'clock."

\--

They hardly sleep that night, not a single one of them. None of them want to leave Fernando and so they end up dragging all the blankets and pillows down to the livingroom and making a massive bed there in the floor, all curled around each other, David surrounding Nando almost completely with Sergio's head resting on Nando's stomach and Iker spooned up behind Sergio, his arm stretched out to try and touch all three of them while they slept.

David and Sergio wake up first, showering and coming downstairs around the same time, keeping quiet but working together to make eggs and toast and coffee for breakfast. The last meal. David is morose, caught up in his own thoughts and going through the motions of scrambling eggs and buttering toast without even being aware of what he's doing. Sergio watches him pull down four mugs for coffee and he stills his hands after he sets them on the counter, just a soft touch of fingers to the back of his hand and he feels those tired green eyes on him. He looks up and searches David's face, not losing the connection of his hand on David's as he does.

"This is not your fault," he says finally, his voice soft and careful. "Please don't feel like you've failed him, or that you aren't protecting him from this. He needs this. He needs to do this. This is his way of protecting you back, of giving back to you what you've always done for him his whole life. This is his way of making sure that he has you to come back to. I know how much this is hurting you, but you've got to give him this. You've got to sacrifice a little more of yourself by letting him go. He will come back." He makes sure that David hears him, really hears him. "He will come back to you. And he will never leave again."

Tears slip unbidden down David's cheeks as he swallows, thick and painful and he nods, tiny movements, over and over again.

"Iker and I will be here," Sergio continues, his voice falling even softer. "We will be here with you. And we will give him something to come back to. We can give him something beautiful to start his new life with. Because we all love him. Can't we?" He rubs David's hand and gives him a small, true smile. He reaches up with his free hand and wipes away a tear sliding down David's cheek before leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead. "We can get through this. All of us."

"Coffee?"

They both turn and see Fernando standing in the doorway wearing just a huge sleepshirt, his hair looking like some carefully arranged display of chaos. He's wiping at his bleary eyes and Sergio glances over to see David staring at him, just staring and staring like he will never look his fill. Sergio smiles a bit to himself and he gives David's hand a squeeze before he lets go and walks over to Fernando, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "David made you an entire skillet of eggs. Go get some breakfast, okay?"

Fernando smiles and he's looking just at David now and making his way toward him and Sergio leaves the room, leaves them to their last couple of hours together.

\--

By 8:45, David and Fernando are showered and dressed and pacing impatiently, not wanting to leave but so anxious about being in the house that neither of them can hardly stand it. Iker clears his throat finally, standing up from where he's sitting on the side of the couch, still wearing his pajamas. Fernando had asked Iker and Sergio to stay home. He is trying to keep this as low-key as he can, as undramatic as such an event allows.

"It's time, I guess, huh?"

Fernando looks stricken at the sound of Iker's voice, his eyes widening before he checks himself, reigning it all in with a soft clearing of his own throat. He's wearing an old Zeppelin t-shirt of David's and his favorite pair of jeans, all the jewelry from his piercings are out and he feels empty-handed because. Well. What do you need to bring with you to jail?

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess we should." He looks around the house, trying to take it all in, the way the light comes in the windows and the lingering smell of coffee and buttered toast and the sight of Sergio in a tanktop with no hair. No hair. Their eyes catch and they're moving toward each other before either of them realizes it, thin arms of freckles and sun-kissed brown wrapping around each other and they clutch with no words, faces buried in each other's necks. Iker's eyes blur with tears and he swallows hard, looking between them and then over at David who looks so composed that Iker is terrified. He knows that look on him, the one that implies a breakdown is on the way but David is just keeping his head down, just taking the hits and staying on his feet because he has to. Because there's no other way, at this point. He just has to do this and then it's done.

"You call us all the time. Everyday, if you can. Write me letters. Keep a journal, for yourself. Talk to people, if you can. Let them help you. If. If you need." Sergio sucks in a breath, tears spilling down his cheeks and he shakes his head, apologizing wordlessly for not being able to continue. He kisses Fernando then, soft, sweet kisses before he digs their foreheads together. "I love you. I am so lucky to have met you and that I'm going to have you in my life forever. Thank you."

Fernando can only nod, his hands shaking hard but he keeps them clutched together in front of him, his head down now and Iker is moving toward him, taking him into his arms and crushing him against his chest, not giving either of them a moment to breathe. Words tumble around in Iker's mind, speeches and well-meaning things that are true that he wants to say but none of them feel right, none of them really say everything he wants. "We will be right here. Always. For you, okay?"

And it's enough.

When they hear the truck disappearing down the driveway, the last crack-pop of gravel and the distant hum of the engine, Iker and Sergio turn to look at each other, helpless and drained and left without words. They go back to the bed they've created, hiding together under the blankets and against each other and they lay just there, neither one of them sleeping and neither saying a single word.

\--

It's 9:04 and David can see Claire pacing in front of the police station, checking her watch every few seconds and glancing out into the parking lot. He's parked as far away as he can get, hiding Nando until he can't anymore. Fernando is tucked in his arms, wrapped around him and they’re just holding each other, quiet and everything. Just a little longer. Just a few more minutes. David strokes Fernando's hair back, soft and silky from his shower as he drops kiss after silent kiss to the top of his head.

"I would do anything for you, chickpea. Do you know that? Do you understand how much I love you?"

Fernando absorbs the words into his skin, letting them sink into him like they're all he needs. He doesn't say anything, just nods gently against David's shoulder, his nose buried there in soft cotton, breathing him in. Just breathing him. His warmth.

"I am never letting you go again. Not after today. This is it. You're mine for the rest of our lives after this. I'll even buy you a ring, if you want." He feels Fernando's body shake in laughter a little then and he allows himself a brief smile before he kisses his temple. "I'm gonna build a life for us, 'pea. You'll see. You can have anything you want. Be anything you want. And we'll always have each other. You'll have what you've always deserved to have. What I've always wanted to give you."

"Having you is enough, Davey. Havin' just you is all that I need. All I really need." He looks up at him, searching his eyes so long he feels dizzy with it and David's finger is crooked and tilting Fernando's chin up and they're kissing, soul-deep and sweet as ambrosia and forever.

"You've always had me. You'll always have me."

The sound of the Fernando opening the door brings David to life and he clutches at him, powerful arms tightening around Fernando and locking him into place. He gasps, suddenly short of breath, his eyes wild.

"N-no. Not yet. Please, chickpea, not yet."

"Davey, I have to go. Let me go." Fernando's voice is soft, even, sure. His chin is trembling and tears are standing in his eyes and he can't look up at him, can only look at David's chest, at the faint golden hairs curling at the collar of his shirt.

"How can I just let you go? How can you expect me to do this?"

"Please don't do this, Davey. Please. Please don't make this harder on me. Please, you. You've gotta just let me go."

David sobs, hard and making his chest hurt as Fernando forces his way from David's grasp, from his lap even as David's fingers grab at him, at his thin wrists, his sweet, long arms, his own shirt there on that body he loves more than any other. Tears spill down his cheeks as he reaches for Fernando's hand but Fernando just shuts the door, standing outside the window now and David grabs his face and kisses him through the rolled down window, just kisses and kisses at him until Fernando rips his mouth away, shaking and panting and about to fucking lose it. "Love you, Davey. I love you."

"Love you, my baby boy. God, I love you so much. Nando. Nando." He calls after him as Fernando walks away, makes his way through the parking lot and towards Claire who sees him already. He can't watch as his whole life disappears into the police station and he just curls over, gripping his dead daddy's steering wheel and sobbing until he can't make sound anymore. He feels gutted, empty. He feels like it's that night all over again when he dropped a burning branch of dead leaves on his father's remains and slept in the bed of this very truck, surrounded by everything that belonged to him and Fernando that he could find. It's that night all over again and he doesn't think the past will ever stay back there where it belongs. Not for them.

\--

Fernando walks straight up to the counter at the police station, Claire at his side, her hand gentle at his elbow.

A stout officer with a grim face walks up to them, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Help you, son?"

Fernando stands up a little straighter, trying to remember everything David taught him about being brave, about standing up for yourself, about being strong even when you're so scared that you think your legs are going to give out from under you. He tries to remember everything David taught him about love. Everything good that might happen when this is all over. God, he’s just tired of running.

"I. I killed my dad. And I'm here to turn myself in."


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a little over a year and a half after Chapter 29. I’m a sucker for happy endings, what can I say? I love you all. Thank you so much again, from the bottom of my heart.

**from:** Fernando Beckham  
 **to:** Sergio Ramos  
 **date:** Wed, Apr 10, 2013 at 10:41 AM  
 **subject:** three days

_hey magic, how goes it? so i get out of this place in three days. i can’t even believe it, really. i know that i haven’t really been talking to you all very much but it’s been kinda hard here. not like. people beating me up and shit, but just. emotional stuff hard. you know? i have a shrink guy i talk to named jeff who’s real nice and a total laid back chill guy and i don’t feel like a fucking freak when i talk to him which is nice too. i haven’t told him anything about davey cause well. some things are okay to keep secret, right?_

_i guess i’ve just been thinking a lot lately, is all. it’s been a fuckin weird year and a half. i got my GED in here and ive been taking some college courses through the locale community college here in gainesville and who knew? i’m actually kinda fuckin smart, man. HA. i can transfer my credits over to NGTC and take classes when i come back to blairsville. im thinking about going into engineering technology. it seriously freaks me out still to talk about school in a voluntary way, ive just gotta say._

_ive been thinkin about my mom a lot. i don’t really know why. i never knew her that good and mostly when i think about her i just picture like. an angel, you know? pretty hair and all those soft lights and long dresses. that’s how davey always talked about her even though i always knew she was sick for most of my life and she probably wasnt as beautiful as he makes her sound._

_i still try not to think about daddy. maybe someday, but. not now. i know you understand that. bein in here and having to talk to people about all this shit has made me think of you alot too sergio. about the shit you been threw. i just want to tell you that you can talk about it with me, if you ever want to. i think it would be good for us both. i think that we’re good for each other. weve always helped each other, havent we?_

_shit, this is getting long enough. i hope everything is good at home and that everybody is happy and safe. write me back and talk to me about home, okay? just tell me stuff. i’ve had a hard couple of days and i just. i really need you guys. send me pictures. tell me things. i love you all._

_nando_

_ps. tell davey that when i get home im going to need a solid week in a room with him. please tell him i said that. and that i love him so much._

 

Fernando flops down on the bed with a heavy sigh, exhaustion coursing through him so deeply that he’s shaking faintly. He’s got an essay due by 6pm and trash duty on the side of 129 at two o’clock but he can’t help that his eyes fall closed and he’s asleep before he even knows it.

He wakes up an hour later, scratching his hand roughly through his hair that is growing out again from when he had to shave it his second day into juvie only this time it’s his natural honey blonde and it’s all one length, all the way past his chin and showing no signs of letting up. He shuffles back over to the computer room and logs in while he yawns and rubs the sleepy out of his eyes. He refreshes gmail and grins to himself when he sees a reply from Sergio.

_Fernando,_

_If you knew how completely computer-illiterate I am, you would not have charged me with the task of sharing pictures via e-mail. Iker is sitting right here beside me, my patient boy, and is walking me through this entire process with the gentlest of voices. He says hello, by the way._

_A lot has changed since you’ve been gone. A lot has changed that we haven’t wanted to tell you about because we didn’t want to ruin the surprise once you got home, but I think it’s only fair that I at least share some teasers with you, just to get you through the next few days. The attached pictures might seem obscure and mysterious, but they’re meant to be! You’re just going to have to see for yourself, alright? =)_

_We all miss you so much. I promise you that’s not just something that I’m saying just because I’m supposed to say it. I miss you. I miss your energy and your vulnerability and your laugh and your crazy music and your freckles and your love. I think we’re going to have to sit down and all talk when you get home, but I think we’re all going to agree on what will be said. Because I love you all: you and David and Iker. And I really think that the rest of you feel the same way, and... I know it’s not very normal, but I really think we can make this work, the four of us. I’m tired of hiding myself from people because I’m afraid of them or what they can do to hurt me. I trust all three of you implicitly and this has been the happiest year of my life. I literally cannot imagine how much happier I could get, but I know that it will all be surpassed when you come back home. Please get here. We need you to be a whole family._

_See you soon._

_All my love,  
Sergio_

\--

Friday at 3pm on April 12th is warm, beautifully so. There’s a breeze and the sun is being tender and Fernando is standing in front of the North Georgia Detention Center with a single bag at his side and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He’s excited and he’s terrified and he doesn’t know what to expect from the rest of his life. He takes a deep breath, feeling the first nauseating waves of a panic attack coming on but that’s when he hears it: the faint rumble of the truck getting closer with each second.

He gasps to himself, his hands shaking even more and he re-adjusts his grip on his backpack, his chest tightening when he finally sees the truck rambling around the corner and into the parking lot. He lets out the tiniest whimper that will never be known by anyone but him and he drops his bags and takes off at a run toward the still-moving truck. He sees Davey there, his beautiful, beautiful brother who seems stronger, more tan, more radiant, more of a man every single day. He hasn’t seen him in two months because of classes and mid-terms and life and he bursts into tears, stupid, stupid little boy tears when he sees Davey slam on the breaks and turn the truck off.

“Chickpea!”

Fernando’s legs are shaking but they carry him the few remaining steps to where Davey is rushing at him and scooping him up, dragging Fernando’s long legs around his body. Fernando sobs in the safety of Davey’s neck, his entire body trembling violently as he clutches and clutches at him.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby boy. I got you. Shh, I got you. You’re comin’ home now. You’re comin’ home.”

Fernando finds himself unable to speak, to return the sentiment or thank him or anything. Relief floods through him like rushes of warm water and he feels weak, boneless. He digs out soft kisses against David’s neck and Fernando feels him groan, feels him pull his body down to drag Fernando against the heated line of his dick in his tight cowboy jeans.

“Boy, you better stop that or we’re never gonna get home.” David laughs, soft and sweet and he pulls back to cup Fernando’s cheek, getting a good look at him. Fernando lets him look his fill and wonders what he’s seeing, wonders if he’s comparing him to how he used to look when he was younger or how he looked the day he left him in the police station parking lot a year and a half ago.

“So beautiful. You’re just so goddamn beautiful, my boy.” David strokes his hair back, that sweet, sweet color that it always used to be and he tucks it behind Fernando’s ears, clearing his face completely so that he can really see him. The piercings are gone and Fernando has gained a few pounds, just enough to put some softness to his cheeks again and some heft to his ass, some thickness to his still-young thighs. David’s grip tightens across Fernando’s ass as he leans forward and presses the palest of kisses to Fernando’s lips, their foreheads resting against each other’s for a long, calm moment. “Let’s get you home.”

\--

The getting home part takes a little bit longer than the hour-fifteen it should because Fernando’s mouth zeroes in on Davey’s dick the second they get outside of Hall County and David has to pull over, just pulls right off the highway and cups the back of Fernando’s head and closes his eyes and gives himself over to the soft pink slip of Fernando’s lips and tongue and mouth and throat. He comes straight down that throat, feeling something lock into place then, the final piece of the puzzle. He pants dizzily down at Fernando who’s looking just as at peace himself, licking and sucking David until he’s completely soft and clean and David is shuddering in beautiful pleasure-pain. Fernando tucks him back into his pants, leaning up to kiss the bitter delicious slick into David’s slack mouth.

The drive back to Blairsville through Vogel State Park is quiet and content with Fernando tucked up under David’s arm, eyes closed while he just absorbs it all, the comforting rumble of the truck and soft croon of country on the radio and David, smelling like sweat and Old Spice and sunshine-dried laundry and the only home Fernando has ever known.

\--

Fernando stays quiet until they decidedly pass the road that turns off into Iker’s family’s neck of the woods and drive instead toward their own old home. He feels his temperature rise, heat setting up across his neck and cheeks and something cold like fear pulses through his veins. He turns to look up at Davey with big eyes, scared and young and questioning. Davey glances over at him and gives a soft, short laugh at the look on Fernando’s face, a laugh that he tenders with a kiss to Fernando’s forehead.

“Don’t worry, chickpea. You’ll see.”

They start the long drive up toward his Daddy’s house that is now a burned out skeleton of nightmares for Fernando and he starts to breathe quickly, feeling antsy in his own skin and under Davey’s arm and in this truck and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting. That this is all a dream, a horrible, horrible dream and when he looks back over Davey is going to have turned into his father, his Daddy with his angry, cruel face that only looked like something nearing happiness when he was bringing his fist down into Fernando’s soft flesh, flesh that bruised like so many apples under unyielding, malicious hands.

The tears in his eyes are about to spill over when they round the final curve of the driveway and he gasps, struck dumb and silent and immobile. Because this is a dream. It has to be. The house is gone like it was never there and is replaced by flowers, by rows of the most beautiful green that can only be vegetables and there is a hammock--a hammock!--next to his tree, the one that Fernando calls The Giving Tree in his head ever since Sergio told him that--

“Davey. Davey, what.” The tears fall then but their intent is different. He is simply stunned, he’s happy beyond his wildest dreams. A garden. Sergio planted a garden for his tree and gave him a hammock so he could be near it still.

He watches as they drive up past the tree and the hammock, a newly laid gravel road continuing from the old one, a new one that drives right up over where the old house was with no regret. And that’s when he sees it.

It’s not big. It’s modest and it’s just wood stained to be a bit darker but it has a porch and a roof and clotheslines with flannel shirts and jeans and white briefs hanging from them and a little beige 90s model Toyota Camry parked out front.

By the time Fernando looks back over at Davey, Davey has parked next to the Camry and is looking back over at Fernando with a grin so big it has to hurt his face but he still somehow manages to raise his eyebrows expectantly, like he can’t possibly fathom what there is to react to here.

“What is it, babe?”

“This.” Fernando doesn’t finish the thought, just opens the door and walks up to the little house in a daze. There’s a swing on the front porch and a pair of muddy work boots and a cat--a cat!

Fernando rushes toward the cat who is dozing on the porch rail, fat and fluffy and all kinds of brown and caramel and its bright green eyes open and widen when it sees Fernando. It tries to duck from his hands but Fernando is wilier even than cats and he gets a couple of good scratches in, smiling when the cat rubs its face against his hand. David sidles up next to Fernando, smirking as he watches them interact.

“Name’s RJ, after Robert Johnson. Godfather of all good music.” He wraps a lazy arm around Fernando’s shoulders, his smile permanent now. “Iker found him when we were building this place.”

“You.” Fernando turns his attention away from RJ to look up at David and then up at the house, appreciating it in a whole different way now. He runs his hand over the railing, appreciating how sturdy it is. His Davey did this. “Y’all built this?”

“Yeah.” Davey’s face looks a little red and he scratches the back of his neck, shrugging off any compliments that may come his way. “Me’n’Iker. Little Bit did all the detailing, the painting and the scavenging for furniture and knickknacks and plantin’ and all that. Just got it really truly finished about a month ago. Worked our asses off too. We wanted to get it done before you got here. So you had somethin’ real to come home to.” He looks embarrassed still, shy under Fernando’s wide-eyed awe and attention and David reaches over to distractedly scritch at RJ’s head.

Fernando steps up to him, just gazing at him in silence for a long moment before he pushes up onto the tips of his toes, hands coming up to cup David’s face. He kisses him, soft and intent and achingly profound, keeping his mouth just there to speak. “Thank you.”

David rubs at his back, returning the kiss with a shy smile and he shakes his head a little. “Told you I wanted to do this, didn’t I? Our whole lives? I just wanted you to have something, something that’s yours. That’s ours. You know?”

“Stop makin’ out and get your asses in the house!”

Iker’s voice is loud and happy and Fernando’s eyes widen up at Davey. David laughs and swats at Nando’s ass, giving him a gentle shove toward the open screen door. “Get on inside. I’ll get your stuff from the truck.”

Fernando opens the door and steps inside and he just stops, gazing around at it all, at the mismatched couch and two comfy looking chairs, the old quilts and crocheted blankets draped across the backs of them and pillows with country roosters on them and Iker there in the middle of the couch, bare feet on a wood spool coffee table and a grin big and huge and meant just for Fernando. There’s a baseball game on in the background, the Giants and the Cubs. Fernando pounces on him on the couch, straddling him and throwing his arms around his neck and hugging the ever-living shit out of him. Iker laughs and gives just as good as he gets, squeezing at the not-so-thin boy on his lap until they’ve both got it out of their systems. Fernando relaxes against Iker and just sort of lays right there against him, draped over his lap with Iker’s hands, workstrong and chilly from the beer he’s been holding, running up and down his back, lazy as you please. They stay like that for at least ten minutes, the baseball game a comforting background noise to Iker’s slow, even breathing.

“Like your new digs, kid?”

“This place is.” Fernando looks around, seeing little touches of all of them everywhere: climbing plants in the windows, dream catchers swaying in the open breeze just above them, a bookcase overflowing with books of all kinds, a veritable mountain of DVDs shelved methodically and thoughtfully on either side of the good-sized television. Pictures on the walls, some ridiculous (a photo of a kitten in a basket with the words “Lord knows I try!” written above its head), some family photos (Iker in his baseball uniform posing with a bat at eleven years old, David standing in front of the first car he ever fixed up at the shop he used to work at, and the salvaged picture of Fernando from the old house), and some--

“What?!” Fernando bursts out laughing and jumps up from Iker’s lap to hurry over to what looks like a boring cross-stitch sampler in a tacky gold frame on the wall but upon closer inspection he finds that it reads “Homo Sweet Homo” with blue hearts on top and pink ones on the bottom. Iker snorts but he’s grinning as he shakes his head.

“Sergio. He found some kit online and had to order it and make it. He thought you’d like that.”

Fernando touches the glass covering the silly stitched words and his grin is probably just as goofy and love-stricken as it feels. “Where is he?”

“Kitchen.” Iker nods behind the couch and to the right. “Making dinner. Tacos and black beans and rice. Fresh guacamole!”

Fernando walks timidly toward the kitchen, nervous for some reason about seeing Sergio but only because Sergio is so beautiful in his mind, so amazing and beyond anything Fernando has ever known. And he hasn’t seen him in a whole year and a half. He hated the detention center’s rules about family-only visits and no amount of convincing would sway them.

The closer he gets, the more he can hear Sergio singing softly to himself, headphones in his ears and his hips swaying as he sings what is clearly a flamenco song, his voice lifting and falling and aching in all the right places. His hair is quite a bit longer than Fernando’s is, hitting just at his shoulderblades and is a rich, beautiful brown that falls in waves and curls like a dark ocean and Fernando sighs softly to himself, resting against the doorframe and just observing for a minute.

This is clearly Sergio’s domain, a room full of little trinkets and rocks and crystals and racks of spices and bowls of fresh vegetables and fruit and more plants everywhere, most of them herbs in tiny pots along the windowsill. There’s a skillet of spiced beef on the stove and Sergio is making what appears to be pico de gallo, adding cilantro to a bowl of tomatoes and onions and peppers. It smells so good, it all feels so fucking _right_ and comfortable and so immediately like home that tears burn in his eyes once again.

Sergio turns and pauses mid-movement and mid-word, his eyes huge for the split second it takes him to recognize Fernando and he’s yanking off his earphones and throwing his handtowel on the floor and he rushes over to him, throwing his arms around Fernando’s shoulders and they crush against each other, both gasping and whimpering and digging together hard, vainly trying to get closer together.

“You’re home,” Sergio says, simple and probably silly but it’s tearful and it makes Fernando cry all over again and he pushes Sergio back against the sink, his arms shaking with how hard he’s holding him. They don’t let go for a long, long while, until the meat starts to smell like maybe it’s burning a bit and Sergio has to pull away, breathless and eyes shining bright and dark with tears and his smile is huge, more unguarded than Fernando has ever, ever seen him. They kiss then, invasive and hungry and too brief before Sergio has to stir the meat with a whispered series of apologies for it.

“This place is amazing, Sergio.” Fernando wraps his arms around him, holding him from behind and watching him work. “It’s. It’s more than I ever could even dream of. You’re all just so amazing. I just don’t know what to say.” He presses his face to Sergio’s neck, breathing him in and letting his tears soak into his warm skin. He closes his eyes and hears the wind blowing lazy and sunny outside, windchimes just outside the window tinkling every so often. Home, is all he can think. Home. Home.

“We’ve all got our own rooms. Just little rooms so we can have time to ourselves if we want. You know?” Sergio turns the heat down on the beef and takes Fernando’s hand, tugging him down a short hall and opening the door to the first room they come to. “My room.”

There’s a beautiful tapestry serving as a curtain over the small window though it’s tied up in a knot right now to let the breeze in. The walls are the color of cinnamon and there are lamps and curtains and small paintings on the walls, little bursts of color and words written in black Sharpie, poems and single words and quotes and there’s a small laptop closed on the bed, a mattress on the floor covered with soft looking pillows and an old Mexican blanket. His guitar is in the corner and there’s an older looking stereo system and piles and piles of CDs around it on the floor. It smells like church incense and feels so much like Sergio that Fernando aches. More plants, more seashells and birds nests and dream catchers and medicine wheels and just Sergio. Just Sergio.

Sergio smiles at him out of the corner of his eyes and tugs him gently away and down to the next room over, flicking on the light and letting Fernando look in. “Iker’s.”

The walls are iced coffee colored and there’s a good-sized bed on a platform in the corner, some clothes strewn about and a well-used baseball glove tossed onto a chair near the window but the main draw is the big, ancient-looking oak desk in front of a pair of orderly bookshelves. There’s a desktop computer and notebooks and loose paper all over it. Sergio squeezes Fernando’s hand.

“He’s writing a book.”

Fernando’s eyes widen but Sergio just grins at him and tugs him along on the tour. Another light on and Fernando hums his approval softly, feeling warm all over at the sight of this room. “David’s,” Sergio says quietly, letting go of Fernando’s hand so he can walk in.

There’s a queen-sized bed thick with at least three blankets and big, fluffy piles of pillows and all the furniture is dark, a dark wood that goes with the sage green walls and there are little familiar things everywhere, things that have always just been _Davey_ to him, small framed pictures of Fernando at various ages, a football in the corner, a television with a few DVDs stacked on top and a gorgeous bay window that looks out over the creek that the house is built up against. There’s a blanket and a pillow there and a small notebook and Fernando can barely breathe.

“He has a workshed out back, too. He spends most of his time out there lately. He’s been building furniture and selling it at a store in town. Doing pretty well, actually.”

Fernando is quiet, trying to process all of this, any of it. He flounders and false-starts a few times before he can finish a sentence. “What. What about you? And Iker? What are you guys doing?”

“I’m writing songs. Doing a few shows in town at cafes but nothing serious. Taking some art classes at that school you’re going to go to.” He raises his eyebrows excitedly and Fernando grins right back. “Um. My mama is here. She’s.” His eyes blur with tears immediately and Fernando just gapes at him. “Iker. He. He found her. Got ahold of her and she left my dad and came here. She’s. She’s been here ever since. She lives at Iker’s mom’s house and she helps out on the farm and around the house. I’ve.” Sergio swallows hard, hands shaking as he tries to keep it together. “I never thought I’d see her again, you know? And she’s here. She’s just. I see her everyday and we make meals together and she comes to sing with me sometimes and she’s happy and she’s. She’s _here_ , Nando.”

Fernando throws his arms around Sergio’s neck and just holds him silently, just listening to him breathe and feeling his deep-seated happiness, feeling it seep into his own bones. “I’m so happy for you,” he says finally, pulling back to smile at him.

“Thanks.” Sergio looks shy now, sheepish for getting so emotional and he tugs him along to the next door. The rooms are small but there seem to be a lot of them and Fernando realizes that the house is bigger than he initially thought. “Iker’s been coaching Ronnie’s baseball team and he’s having the time of his life. He’s also been working on getting his teaching certificate and he’s subbing at the schools in the time being.”

Sergio opens the last door and Fernando peeks in. He sees his sheets from the old house that David salvaged for him, sees a bookshelf with a few books, a dresser with a couple of photos and a computer on a small desk. “It’s. It’s not much yet. I didn’t want to do it for you. I wanted you to make it what you want. What you need it to be. I want you to make it yours. There’s. There’s a bunch of paint swatches in the top drawer of the desk and 25 colors of sharpies and acrylic paints too. And all your CDs are over there.” He nods over to a similar stereo system to the one that is in Sergio’s own room.

Fernando nods dumbly, no words left in him now. He follows Sergio past one door (“bathroom”) and to the final door that is on the opposite end of the hall as the entranceway. Sergio opens the door and turns the light on and steps into this room, looking almost shy about this one. Fernando glances around and doesn’t see much of anything really, just a massive bed that takes up most of the room and pushed into a corner and covered in pillows and blankets, looking well-used and recently slept in. There’s a pair of jeans on the floor and a pair of cowboy boots tossed into the corner under the window and there are half-used candles on every flat surface. Fernando turns to Sergio with wide eyes, the question obvious.

“This is, um. _Our_ room.” He gestures out at it, chewing on the inside of his lip nervously. “All of ours.”

Fernando gazes around the room again and he sees it differently now, much differently. He feels a heat starting over the surfaces of his skin when he catches the faint scent of sex, boy sex that is so different than boyandgirl sex, the smell of sweat and sandalwood from the candles and oh. _Oh._ “You. You all have been. Um.”

“Yeah.” Sergio glances around and then back up at Fernando nervously. “We all kind of sleep in here a lot. Or just two of us, if they want. Or whoever. Just.” He takes a deep breath and reaches for Fernando’s hand again. “We wanted this place to be a home, and. And we wanted our own spaces in it, but we also wanted a place where we could be. Together.”

Fernando looks back at Sergio and he’s breathing a little bit harder now. “You mean I could have a fucking orgy in here with you three? Do you realize how fucking hot that is?”

Sergio’s face is hot now with want and an infuriatingly adorable amount of timidity and he nods as he catches Fernando’s eyes. “We all love each other. And this is our haven. Okay? Just for us.”

Fernando feels strong arms wrap around his waist and a hard body press up behind him and he can smell that it’s David. He relaxes back against him, reveling in the firm dig of David’s cock against the small of his back. “You like it?” His voice is gruff, hungry.

“Yeah, it’s. I feel like fuckin’ Dorothy in the _Wizard of Oz_ or somethin’. Only. You know. Gay and with my brother and two other guys that I’m in love with too. But it’s. This is.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a shuddering sigh, feeling what can only be Iker’s hand carding through his long hair. “This is like a happily ever after thing, isn’t it?”

Iker gives a little snort for that, reaching out for Sergio and tugging him in under his arm even as Fernando leans into his gentle touches. “There’s no such thing as that, Nando, and you know it. We’ve worked damn hard to be happy. I mean. We’ve all fought and sacrificed and worked our fingers bloody to find happiness. To carve it out of the lot we’ve been given. We found it and we just gotta hold onto it with all we’re worth. We’ve earned this happiness. We’ve just gotta learn to trust it and enjoy it.”

Sergio is smiling quietly up at Iker, reaching to thread their fingers together and he kisses his knuckles soft and paying attention to each one. “How about we eat an early dinner and show Nando how soft this new bed is?”

Fernando pulls until David comes with him to the kitchen still attached and he’s grinning so fucking hard that he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. “How about we have dinner in bed and eat tacos off of Magic here instead?”

Fernando can hear Sergio’s indignant little noise for that and Iker’s dark chuckle of agreement and here in the wrap of David’s arms, Fernando secretly knows that he really has gotten his happily ever after.


End file.
